Marriott began to question the convict about his conversations with Archie. He did this in the belief that while Archie had no doubt breathed his vengeance against Kouka, his words, under the circumstances, were not to be given that dreadful significance which now they were made to assume. He could imagine that they had been uttered idly, and that they bore no real relation to his shooting of Kouka. But the difficulty was to make this clear to the crystallized, stupid and formal minds of the jury, or rather to Broadwell, who was the jury. He tried to induce Griscom to describe the circumstances under which Archie had made these threats, but Griscom was almost as stupid as the jurors, and the law was more stupid than either, for Griscom in his effort to meet the questions was continually making answers that involved his own conclusions, and to them Eades always objected, and Glassford always sustained the objections. And Marriott experienced the same sensations that he had when Quinn was testifying. There was no way to reproduce Archie’s manner--his tone, his expression, the look in his eyes. To hide his chagrin, Marriott wiped his mouth with his handkerchief, leaned over and consulted his notes. "A life is a long time, isn’t it, Griscom?" he resumed, gently now. "Yes." Griscom’s chin fell to his breast. "And the penitentiary is not a good place to be?" Griscom looked up with the first flash of real spirit he had displayed. "I wouldn’t send a dog there, Mr. Marriott!" "No," said Marriott, "and you’d like to get out?" "Sure." "You’ve applied for a pardon?" "Yes." Marriott’s heart was beating fast. At last he had a hope. He could hear the ticking of the big clock on the wall, he could catch the faint echoes of his voice against the high ceiling of the room whose acoustic properties were so poor, he could hear the very breathing of the crowd behind him. "Mr. Griscom," said Marriott, wondering if that were the right question, longing for some inspiration that would be the one infallible test for this situation, "did you report to the authorities these remarks of Koerner’s at the time he made them?" Griscom hesitated. "No, sir," he answered. "Why not?" "I didn’t think it necessary." "Why didn’t you think it necessary?" "Well--I didn’t." "Was it because you didn’t think Archie was in earnest--because his words were not serious?" "I didn’t think it necessary." Marriott wondered whether to press him further--he was on dangerous ground. "To whom did you first mention them?" "To the deputy warden." "This man here?" Marriott waved his hand at Ball with a contempt he was not at all careful to conceal. "Yes, sir." "When was that?" "Oh, about a month ago." "After Kouka’s death?" "Yes."