[*] The Statesman Gilbert Holmes here refers to was Stephen A. Douglas, called "The Little Giant" because of his sturdy form and the strength of his intellect. Judge Douglas was afterward for many years United States Senator from Illinois, and prominent in the politics of our country immediately preceding the great Civil War. In 1860 he was a candidate for President with Lincoln and Breckenridge, and upon the opening of the war, in 1861, generously came forward and offered Mr. Lincoln his support and that of his adherents. This act of unsolicited patriotism proved of incalculable benefit then and afterward to the President and the Union.—THE AUTHOR.

With the arrival of the hour set apart, the clerk arose and called the trial, and loudly, as if the matter were unexpected and notice now given for the first time. No sooner did he cease and the prisoner had answered "Not guilty," than Moth arose, with great show of deference to the judge and jury.

"May it please the honorable court and this intelligent jury," he went on, "I appear here on behalf of the people to aid in the punishment of a monstrous crime—a crime conceived in cunning and lust of wealth by one who before stood high in the estimation of many good men. You will notice I do not say all good men, and in this qualification I speak advisedly. Many have never believed the prisoner honest; I never have, and for good reason. He is young, of aspiring nature, of unknown antecedents, and greedy of preferment and gain. This latter some of you may have known before, but it is well to again call it to your attention. His downcast look and the lean and covetous lines about his face tell a story of duplicity and cunning no intelligent man, least of all a jury so circumspect as this, can mistake," and Moth looked with lowering eyes upon Uncle Job, whose countenance, truth to say, was neither lowering nor covetous, but open and manly as one could wish. Then turning to the jury, he cried, waving his hand: "I do not ask you to believe me. Look for yourselves, gentlemen."

"I object to this line of procedure, your honor, in advance of the evidence," Mr. Promb broke in, with considerable spirit, "as being likely to prejudice the case of my client, and wrongfully."

"The attorney for the state will confine himself to the line of evidence he proposes to present. The jury may properly be left to form their own opinion of the prisoner's personal appearance," Judge Douglas responded, with some severity.

"Very well, your honor; but it is impossible to prejudice a case so plain to all men as this will be made to appear further on. Restricting myself, however, as you justly observe, we shall prove all that I have intimated and more. We will prove that a sum of money, great enough to tempt the cupidity of a weak man, such as the prisoner at the bar, was left in his care, and that taking advantage of the confidence reposed in him, he deliberately and feloniously and with malice aforethought made away with it, to his own advantage and the detriment of his patron and the good morals of society. All this we will prove, may it please your honor and the honorable jury."

When Moth concluded, Mr. Promb arose, but only to excuse himself from addressing the court at this stage of the proceedings. Whereupon Moth sprang to his feet again and asked that Mr. Henry Seymour, a friend of the prisoner, be sworn. When thus called, Mr. Seymour, who sat some way off, arose and made his way to the witness-stand, all eyes turned expectantly upon him, as if he, too, might possibly be guilty, being a friend of the accused. Passing Uncle Job, the latter smiled upon him as if in assurance of unalterable good will, whatever his testimony might be. When Mr. Seymour had been sworn, Moth proceeded:

"Were you present in the office of Throckmorton & Rathe on the evening when the sum of money stolen, amounting to about ten thousand dollars, was intrusted to the personal care of Job Throckmorton for safe-keeping over night?"

"I was."

"Did the said Throckmorton receive the money?"