"Well, what do you say?" "I have no private views that are not public ones; I can’t see any distinction. I say that I would not take an oath that might oblige me to vote to kill a man." The atmosphere became tense. "But assuming you had taken an oath, would you rather break that oath than discharge your duty?" "I wouldn’t take such an oath." "Then you place your private opinions above the law, do you?" "In this instance, I do. I don’t believe in that law, and I won’t help enforce it." "You mean,"--Glassford was plainly angry--"that you wouldn’t take an oath to enforce a law you didn’t believe in?" "That’s just what I mean." Glassford looked an instant at Holden as if trying to decide what he had better do with him for these heresies. Holden’s blue eyes were steady; they returned Glassford’s gaze, seeming scarcely to wink. And just then Eades, fearing the effect of the man’s scruples on the jury, thought best to relieve the situation. "We submit a challenge for cause," he said. "Allowed," Glassford snapped. "We don’t want such men as you on juries." He whirled about in his chair, turned his back on Holden, and as Holden walked directly from the courtroom, the eyes of all followed him, with a strange interest in a man who was considered unfit for jury service because he had principles he would not forego. "Samuel Walker," called Gard. An aged, doddering man tottered to the chair. He scarcely spoke in answer to Eades’s questions; when he did, it was in the weak, quavering voice of senility. He had no occupation, knew none of the lawyers, had no knowledge of the case, had neither formed nor expressed opinions, and had no scruples against capital punishment. "You believe that the laws should be executed and upheld?" said Eades in an insinuating tone. "Heh?" said the old man, leaning forward with an open palm behind his hairy ear. Eades repeated the question and the fellow nodded. Marriott turned in disgust from this stupid, senile man who was qualified, as impatiently as Glassford had turned from the intelligent man who was disqualified. And then, just as Walker was making for the jury-box, Marriott used his last peremptory challenge. A moment later he saw his mistake. Gard was calling a name he knew. "William A. Broadwell."