Mr. Tutt took his place beside his client at the railing, while the
jury, carrying their coats and hats, filed slowly in. Their faces were
set and relentless. They looked neither to the right nor to the left.
O'Brien sauntered over and seated himself nonchalantly with his back to
the court, studying their faces. Yes, he told himself, they were a
regular set of hangmen--he couldn't have picked a tougher bunch if he'd
had his choice of the whole panel.

The clerk called the roll, and Messrs. Walsh, Tompkins, _et al._, stated
that they were all present.

"Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon a verdict?" inquired the
clerk.

"We have!" replied Mr. Walsh sternly.

"How say you? Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?"

Mr. Tutt gripped the balustrade in front of him with one hand and put
his other arm round Angelo. He felt that now in truth murder was being
done.

"We find the defendant not guilty," said Mr. Walsh defiantly.

There was a momentary silence of incredulity. Then Babson and O'Brien
shouted simultaneously: "What!"

"We find the defendant not guilty," repeated Mr. Walsh stubbornly.