The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1898-07-06

other for protection, and. cast quick
glances of nameless apprehension. Had
their curiosity conspired to send the
blacksmith insane? They knew now
that their 7s hours inquisition had
gone too far and they began to dread
the consequences.
And now William Worthely faced
the II jurymen. He began to answer
imaginary questions and argument with
fierce sarcasm and unassailable logic.
His eyes glared at them and through
them. He was quieter now, but his
body, trembling, gave evidence of an
explosion that could not be suppressed
much longer. The room was locked,
and even if the frightened men had
craved assistance they could not have
had it, except by calling out of the
window.
"You're /. nice lot of men. you are, :"
began the insomnia scathingly.
"Where's your imagination? Do you
suppose George had the courage to hit
anything With that hatchet but tree?
He might have sneaked up from behind.
That's the sort OF man he is, and you
know it. Burns was hit full from the
front. It took man who dared to face
him and kill him. What? Of course he
was there and went away. He probably
came to get some back pay and dropped
his hatchet-perhsps he was scared.
Perhaps he meant to threaten old man
Rrrus, but he didn't even have the
gumption to do that.
Hadn't you ever thought Of neigh
bors? Look me in the face D-n you
all! Couldn't you imagine ne]ghbor
coming up about that time to settle lit
tie business or an old bill with the old
man? He never paid his debts till he
had to. Look! I can see a neighbor 60
ing in the barn just as George left. He
presents his bill, and Burns refuses to
pay. They have hot words. Don't you
hear them blackguard each other: You
won't pay, says the other, standing be-
fore him. Well, I'll make you. Then
the old man sneered at him. And with
that-what does his foot strike: 1t is
the Ratchet George Williams dropped.
Burns, now, he never notices it, but
jeers again. Don It you see it all? can.
"'You won't, eh:' cries the neighbor,
grasping his debtor by the throat. May
be he didn't mean murder, but that
don't make any odds. It's all the same
now. The two men close. You won t
then:' says the neighbor.
"How do, know that George didn't
kill old man Burns? Because did it
myself
In the sober silence that followed the
judges last words a shuttle was heard
at the door, and tall, lean man walk
ed in bearing an armful of logs 1t was
the old man familiarly known as Bill,
the keeper of their hosts camp, quiet,
white haired, harmless fellow. Some
thought him little touched, " but ev-
cry one respected him. He was just a
gentle, unassuming man with an air Of
latent strength and suffering about him
that gave him a dignity of his own.
Something in the significant way the
judge looked at his servant attracted
the attention of the rest
GODFREY Uncle! So that's the man
that killed Burns The young colleglan
jumped up as the old man left the room.
II always thought there was something
queer about him" The hydraulic en-
gineer shook his head sagely at this i'm
pulsive conclusion. But the captain SAID
in an intense way:
"Go on, judge y
Judge Chambers could not help show
ing in his face the qualification that ra-
conteur feels when he has successfully
evolved climax
He proceeded with no undue haste:
"Of course the new jury that was lnn-
paneled acquitted the said George
Williams without leaving their seats.
1t took six men to hold the blacksmith
that night before he was put in strait
Jacket and lodged in padded cell. His
confession cleared up the Burns mystery
and the grand jury brought in true
bill against him, to be served when ne
should recover his sanity, if ever.
"In six months William Worthely
was a model patient, quiet and trust
worthy, and his case was to be consld-
cred in the next spring term. While be
was pronounced sane enough about mat
ters Of the present moment he had fer
gotten absolutely everything about his
life preceding his confession. Even the
very elements Of his trade had been lost
to his mind anil hands. He could now
no more shoe a horse than he could
write novel. He had even forgotten
his name, his neighbors and the village
he lived in He was a new man, just as
if he had been horn again in that asylum
into new world. You can't let mur-
derer loose upon the community, and
you can't hang a man who doesn't re-
member his crime, even if he has con-
fessed. It is question if any man
ought to be punished on his own con-
fession uncorroborated by evidence. But
that is another matter for another time
The problem was what to do w'th