“Well, my friend, explain your case.”
I explained matters, and he remarked: “I do not see how the court could find an innocent man like you guilty. I am going to show the court without trouble that you are not guilty. Have courage; I shall get you out of here as soon as possible.”
The day of the trial was at hand. I had become haggard and worn from the terrible strain, from the uncomfortable cell which I had occupied. My case was called. All ready, I was told to take my oath, and then I was sworn to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. If I could make the court understand that I was innocent, I would soon be a free man.
“Will you tell the court all about this case?” said my attorney.
I proceeded to do so, but, to my horror, I was proved guilty to the jury and sentenced by the judge.
What was I to do? I went back to jail to wait for a new trial. If that failed, it meant ten years in prison at hard work. I had been convicted on circumstantial evidence, my handkerchief being found in the house of the murdered woman. I tried to console myself with the belief that in some way I would be helped out.
I had remained in jail three months when one night I was thinking of the advice my poor old mother had given me, and that was: “When in trouble, pray, pray, pray!” I began to pray, and as I prayed I felt encouraged. After that, I prayed often, hoping that my prayers would be answered. At last I could see that I was fortunate to know within that I was not the real murderer; then I thought that I should pray for the murderer, and I did pray as I never prayed before.
Oh, what a terrible thing it is to be accused of a crime so great as that and be innocent!
A new trial was denied me. What was I to do? God knows I was innocent, but I could not make men believe so here on this earth. The day for the journey to the penitentiary was at hand, and I must go for another’s crime.