“Where are your wits, man? How could I strike him in the back part of the head, and under the right ear, if I struck him while he was fighting me off, as he must have been doing under the circumstances? Look here; suppose you and I are facing one another, so—I have a club in my hand to strike you with; I couldn’t possibly reach you to strike you where Isaac received the blow that finished him. If I were to strike you a blow in a moment of fury, it would be on the top or on the left side of the head. It would be impossible to strike you on the right side, without I were left handed.” “Tom,” said Will, “I hadn’t thought of that—what a fool I have been.” “Well, I suppose you didn’t think of it,” said Tom, “but I don’t see that that makes a fool of you.” “You’ve made a great point,” said Will; “I see now; of course you couldn’t.” “Wait a bit,” said Tom, “you’re going too fast, now. Any one, except a friend, who wanted to believe in my innocence, would say that Isaac might have broken away from me, and have run. If I’d struck him while he was running away, I’d have given him just such a blow as killed him.” “That’s true.” “But, if he’d tried to run away from me, he’d have run in the beaten track, and not in the grass and briars along the roadside. Now, he was found lying in the grass just as he had fallen, and surely, it isn’t likely that if I had struck him down in the middle of the road, I would afterward have dragged him into the grass. My first instinct, after I had done the deed, would be to run away, and leave him lying where he was. He was sitting on the ‘big stone’ when he was struck, and he fell forward just where Ephraim Whiteley found him.” So Tom ended and stood looking at Will. Will said nothing at first, but at last he spoke. “Tom,” said he, drawing a deep breath, “I am more thankful to you than I can tell; you have lifted a great load off my mind. I don’t think that I ever fully believed that you were guilty of this thing, but, I was afraid—I was afraid. The evidence was strong against you—you did meet Isaac Naylor, according to your own confession, and you kept that meeting secret from every one. You had just seen Patty, and had heard all, and I know that you must have been half crazy with it. I believe in your innocence now, but the circumstances were very strong against you.” “Yes; they were, Will,” said Tom; “you had good reason to suspect me; nevertheless, I own freely, I felt kind of cut up when I saw what you thought. Even this that I’ve just said to you, wouldn’t go for much, only that you are ready and anxious to believe me. It wouldn’t weigh a moment with a jury.” “I’m not so sure of that.” Tom made no answer to this last speech; he took a turn or two up and down his cell, and then stopped suddenly in front of the other. “You believe I’m innocent now, do you?” “Yes.” “Firmly?” “Firmly.”