Church got up and gave Osgood's chair a rude kick.
"Huh?" Osgood started up, staring about wildly. Then he came to his senses, looked around, understood, fell back and went to sleep again.
And Reder tramped up and down, and Broadwell sat and glared at him, and the others waited. Reder was thinking of that time of his boyhood in Germany when the old peasant had been tried for setting the wood afire. The whole scene had come back to him, and he found a fascination in recalling one by one every detail, until each stood out vividly and distinctly in his mind. He paced on, until, after a while, Broadwell spoke again.
"Mr. Reder," he said, "I don't see how you can assume the position you do."
"It's no use, I tol' you; no use!"
"But look here," Broadwell insisted, getting up and trying to stop Reder. He took him by the lapel of his coat, forced him to stand an instant, and when Reder yielded, and stood still, the other jurors looked up with some hope.
"Tell me why--"
"I don't vant to have him killedt, I tol' you."
"But it isn't killing; it isn't the same."
"Bah! Nonsense!" roared Reder.