Tom Grayson was sworn.
"Now," said the coroner, "you don't have to criminate yourself. If you cannot answer any question asked of you without criminating you, you can decline to give an answer."
For how many ages have Anglo-Saxons made their criminal law ridiculous by this rule!
"Now," the coroner went on, "tell us just what you know about the shooting at the camp-meeting."
"I don't know anything at all about it," said Tom with agitation. "I haven't seen George Lockwood since I quarreled with him in Moscow till I saw him here." And he pointed with a trembling finger to the stark form of the man he had hated.
"Lie!" cried Hogan. The coroner called, "Order!"
"Aw!" said one of the women in the wheat-mow. "To think he could have the impedence to hole up his head an' talk that away un the corpse right there afore his eyes!"
"Do you know that pistol?" asked the coroner.
Tom took it up and looked at some marks on the butt of it.
"It's mine," he said.