“Hearken to your verdicts as the Court has recorded them,” Worthington hurried on, his words falling limply in the hush. “You, gentlemen, upon your oath, say that Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti is each guilty of murder in the first degree upon each indictment. So say you, Mr. Foreman? So, gentlemen, you all say?” There were murmurs of “We do, we do,” from the jury box. Vanzetti stood in the cage, his arm still raised in the air. Then suddenly Sacco’s voice rang through the courtroom: “_Sono innocente!_” “_Sono innocente!_” he shouted again, and behind the cage Rosina cried loudly, ran to him breaking through the ring of guards and throwing her arms around his neck. Her hat fell off and her copper-red hair tumbled about her neck. “You bet your life,” she babbled. Then she cried out as if overwhelmed, “What am I going to do? I’ve got two children. Oh, Nick. They kill my man.” She clung to him sobbing, burying her face in his neck, the torrent of her words unintelligible. Sacco stood upright, paler than ever, stroking her head and occasionally whispering to her. Vanzetti, next to them, said nothing, but his face was drawn with sympathy. Moore tried gently to disengage her. Finally a policeman removed her from Sacco’s shoulder and led her away. Judge Thayer nodded to the clerk for adjournment. No one was even aware of his few words of thanks to the jury. “They kill an innocent men!” Sacco called out in a shaken voice as judge and jury were leaving. Several of the jurymen looked back at him but none of them paused. “Don’t forget. Two innocent men they kill!” he shouted at them. Within ten minutes the police and deputies had delivered the defendants back to the jail. On their way there the loiterers on the courthouse steps pushed forward and Sheriff Capen threatened to draw his gun if they came any closer. Now the darkened streets were as empty as the courtroom. Lawyers, deputies, public, all had gone except Tom McAnarney, who was rummaging among some papers on the oak table. As he closed his brief case he noticed Assistant District Attorney Williams in the doorway, and observing the customary legal etiquette he stepped toward him with extended hand. “Congratulations,” he said, “on a brilliant victory.” Then he noticed that the other’s face was wet with tears. “For God’s sake, don’t rub it in,” said Williams, without taking his hand. “This is the saddest thing that ever happened to me in my life.” And with the tears still streaming down his cheeks he walked on through the courtroom. FOOTNOTES: [10] The two shells that had not been tampered with during the Plymouth trial were admitted in evidence at Dedham after several witnesses claimed to have seen what they thought was a shotgun protruding from the rear of the getaway car. [11] Long after the trial Sacco admitted privately to Thompson, his later counsel, that he was carrying the Colt that night “because we were at war with the government.”