Mohave County miner., 1891-04-04
THE JURYMAN'S STORY,

hours, and stood eleven to one. The
case waa plain-at least, we eleven
thought So A murder OF peculiar
atrocity had been committed; and
though no eye had witnessed the deed
circumstances pointed 10 the prisoners
guilt with unfailing certainty.
The recusaRt juror had stood out
from the first. He acknowledged tho
cogency OF the proofs, confessed bis
inability TO reconcile the facts with
the defendants innocence, and yet on
every vote went steadily for acouittal.
His conduct was inexplicable. II
could not result from lack of intelli.
gence, for. while he spoke but little.
his words were well chosen. and
evinced a thorough understanding Of
the case.
Though still In the prime OF manhood
his locks were prematurely white, and
his face wore singularly sad and
thoughtful expression. He might be
one Of those who entertained scruples
as 70 the right Of society 10 inflict the
death penalty. But no, it was not that;
for, In reply to such suggestion, he
frankly admitted that brutal men, like
the vicious brutes they resemble, must
be controlled through fear, and that
dread OF death, the supreme terror is
In many cases the only adequate re-
straint.
At the prospect of another night of
fruitless imprisonment we began 20
grow inpatient and expostulated
warmly against what seemed an un-
reasonable eaptiousness; and some not
over kind remarks we're INDUCED in az
10 the impropriety OF trihing with an
oath like that under which we were
acting.
''And yet" the man answered, as
though communing with himself rather
than repelling the imputation, lit is
conscience that hinders my concur
renee in verdict approved by my
Judgement"
How can that be?" queried several
at once.
Conscience may not always dare to
follow Judgment
''But here she can know no other
guide"
Il once would have said the same. ~
''And what changed your opinionPn
Experience"
The speakers manner was visibly
hgitated, and we waited in silence the
explanation which he seemed ready
30 give. Mastering his emotion, as II
In answer 10 our looks Of inquiry, he
continued:
Twenty years ago j was a young
man just beginning life. Few had
brighter prospects and none brighter
hopes. An attachment dating from
childhood, had ripened with its object.
There had been no verbal declaration
and acceptance OF lOve-no formal
-plighting Of troth, but when took my
departure TO seek home In the distant
West IL was thing understood that
when had found it and put il in order
she was to share il. Life in the forest,
though solitary, is not necessarily
lonesome. The kinds OF society af-
forded by nature depends mucn on
ones self. As for me, lived more in
the future that in the present and
hope is an ever cheerful companion.
At length the time came for making
the final payment on the home which
had bought. II would henceforward
be my own; and, in few more months
my simple dwelling, which / had
spared no pains to render inviting,
would be graced by Its mistress.
"At the land Office, wbicn was
some sixty miles OF, / met my old
friend, George C. He, too, had
come TO seek his fortune In the west:
and we were both delighted at the
meeting. He had brought with him,
he said a sum Of money which he de-
sired to invest in land. on which it was
bis purpose to settle. l expressed a
strong wish TO have him for a neigh
Dor, and gave him cordial invitation
20 accompany me home, giving it as
my belief that he could nowhere make
better selection than in that vicinity.
He readily consented, and we set out
together. We had not ridden many
miles, when George suddenly recOllect-
ed a commission he had undertaken
for a friend. which would require his
attendance at public land sale on the
following day. Exacting a promise
that he would not delay his visit long
er than necessary, and having given
minute directions as 10 the route /
continued my way homeward, while he
turned back.
II was about retiring to bed On the !
night of my return when a summons
from without called me to the door.
A stranger asked shelter for himself |
and his horse for the night invited |
him in. Though stranger his face |.
seemed not unfamiliar. He was prob |
ably one OF the men had seen at the I
land Office, a place at that time much |
frequented. Offering him a seat i /.
went to see his horse. The poor ami !
NAL, as we'll as j could see by the I
starlight seemed TO have been hardly !.
used. His painting sides bore witness /.
OF merciless riding; and tremendous /
shrinking, at the slightest touch, being |
q token Of recent fright. On re-entering !
the house, i found the stranger was I
not there. His absence excited no !
surprise; he would doubtless soon re- I
turn. II was a little singular. how
ever. that he should have left his .
watch lying ON the table.
Eat the end of half an hour. my 1
guest not returning, | went again TO 4