The trial of Ben Stone had begun. It was held in the Town Hall, which proved none too large to hold comfortably the surprising number of curious persons who flocked thither; for in any small country town that is somewhat removed from larger places those inhabitants who can spare the time to do so seldom fail to attend such an affair, which provides for their more or less uneventful lives a certain sort of entertainment and a topic out of the ordinary for discussion. On this occasion they had almost completely filled the seats in the hall, staring at the judge, the lawyers, the witnesses and the prisoner, and filling the room with a suppressed hum of comment until called to order.
The clerk had done his part, the case had been stated, and Lawyer Frances, representing the prosecution, had made his opening, telling plainly and concisely what he would attempt to prove. A part of the stolen property—all that had been recovered—together with some other articles in evidence, could be seen on a table at the judge’s elbow. The prisoner sat at one side, with his counsel, Lawyer Marsh, near him. His face was calm; but it was not an attractive face, and more than one, gazing at it, had whispered to a neighbor that he looked like a thief. It is remarkable how quickly most persons may fancy they can perceive criminal indications in the features of any one charged with crime and placed under arrest.
Not far from Ben—as near as they would permit him—sat his blind brother, Jerry; and beside Jerry was seen Henry Bailey, the man from whom the afflicted boy had hidden repeatedly in his flight, after his uncle’s death. Bailey was a harmless, kindly-appearing person, who showed the greatest interest in every move of the trial, and who more than once was seen to speak a few low words in a seemingly reassuring manner into the ear of Jerry Stone. Pilot, the faithful, lay on the floor at Jerry’s side.
Of course Bern Hayden was on hand, and his father also. Bern was with the witnesses, but Mr. Hayden sat back, watching and listening in cold and distant satisfaction. The other witnesses were William Pickle, Roger Eliot, Sleuth Piper, and Spotty Davis, the last mentioned displaying a great deal of uneasiness, which at times amounted almost to fear.
The first person called upon was the deputy sheriff, who, questioned by Lawyer Frances, stated that upon the previous night he was at Stickney’s store shortly after supper, where Bern Hayden found him and told him that there had been a robbery, adding the request that he should at once find Ben Stone, whom Hayden suspected, and search him. In company with Bern, Pickle had gone to the house of Mrs. Jones and obtained admission to the room of the suspected lad, only to discover that the room was empty, and, from indications, that Ben and his brother had made hasty flight.
“Go on, officer,” urged Lawyer Frances. “What did you do then?”
“At young Hayden’s request I searched the place,” said Pickle. “Under the straw tick of the bed I found two watches, two rings, and some money, amounting to purty nigh ten dollars.”
“Are these the watches and the rings?” questioned the lawyer, handing the articles to the witness for inspection.
“Yep,” nodded Pickle positively, “them’s they. I looked them over, and I’m reddy to swear they’re the ones.”
“And the money here——”