“It is the revolver that Mr. Collander kept in his bedroom.”
“Now, Ellen,” said the attorney, “the State has introduced testimony to show that you took this pistol to the gunsmith, Mr. Parks, and had him clean it and load it for you. That was on Tuesday, a week before Mr. Collander’s death. The prosecuting attorney calls on me to explain that incident on some theory, if I can, which will be inconsistent with his theory that you thereby provided yourself with a weapon in order to kill Mr. Collander.” He paused. “We are not concerned with anybody’s theory, Ellen, but what is the truth about it?”
“I was afraid, Colonel, just as I have said. I thought there ought to be a pistol in the house that would shoot.”
The attorney paused a moment as in reflection; then he went on.
“That’s the second point the State makes against you. There is still another; let us get them all together so we can tell the jury precisely what they mean. The prosecuting attorney has shown, here, by a number of witnesses, that you sometimes threatened the lawyer, Mr. Collander; that you have been known to quarrel with him, and that you have more than once said you would kill him. Now, isn’t that true?”
The witness hesitated a moment. She looked vaguely about the court room; presently her eyes rested on the floor.
“Yes,” she said, “it’s all true; but I was not the only person who wanted to kill him.” She hesitated. “What I said was talk—just talk; the other people who wanted to kill him meant it.”
The big attorney lifted his body with a little gesture.
“The fact is, Ellen, that you were always fond of him.”
The witness continued to look down at the floor.