observe the customary forms, but the group was so small that Hans
and she had to serve as witnesses, as jury, and as judges - also as
executioners. She formally charged Michael Dennin with the murder
of Dutchy and Harkey, and the prisoner lay in his bunk and listened
to the testimony, first of Hans, and then of Edith. He refused to
plead guilty or not guilty, and remained silent when she asked him
if he had anything to say in his own defence. She and Hans,
without leaving their seats, brought in the jury's verdict of
guilty. Then, as judge, she imposed the sentence. Her voice
shook, her eyelids twitched, her left arm jerked, but she carried
it out.

"Michael Dennin, in three days' time you are to be hanged by the
neck until you are dead."

Such was the sentence. The man breathed an unconscious sigh of
relief, then laughed defiantly, and said, "Thin I'm thinkin' the
damn bunk won't be achin' me back anny more, an' that's a
consolation."

With the passing of the sentence a feeling of relief seemed to
communicate itself to all of them. Especially was it noticeable in
Dennin. All sullenness and defiance disappeared, and he talked
sociably with his captors, and even with flashes of his old-time
wit. Also, he found great satisfaction in Edith's reading to him
from the Bible. She read from the New Testament, and he took keen
interest in the prodigal son and the thief on the cross.

On the day preceding that set for the execution, when Edith asked
her usual question, "Why did you do it?" Dennin answered, "'Tis