"'You fool,' he says. 'Go look in that coat hangin' on the wall.' I found
her letter there inside of one from Granger. He watched me read it and he
laughed. 'Now, go tell her you've killed a man!' He knew I didn't come of
a killin' breed. There was four hours to think it over. Four hours! I
thought hard, I tell you! 'T was six of one and half a dozen of t' other
'twixt him and me, but I worked it back 'n' forth a good long while about
her. First, taking her away from her father, an old man whose bread I'd
eat. She was like a child of my own raising. I always had felt mean about
that. We'd had bad luck from the start,--my luck,--and now disgrace to cap
it all. Whether I hid it or told her and stood my trial, I'd never be a
free man again. There he lay! And a sin done in secret, it's like a drop
of nitric acid: it's going to eat its way out--and in!

"I knew she'd have friends enough, once she was quit of me. That was the
case between us. The thing that hurt me most was to put her letter back
where I found it, and leave it, there with him. Her little cry to me--and
I couldn't come! I read the words over and over, I've said 'em to myself
ever since. I've lived on them. But I had to leave the letter there to
show I'd never come back. I put it back after he was dead.

"The sins of the parents shall be visited,--when it's in the blood! But I
declare to the Almighty, murder wa'n't in my blood! It come on me like a
stroke of lightning hits a tree, and I had a clear show to fall alone.

"That's the answer. Maybe I didn't see all sides of it, but there never
was no opening to do different, after that night. Now, you've had an
education. I should be glad to hear your way of looking at it?"

"I should think you might stand your trial, now, before any judge or jury,