It made an impression, as I could perceive, upon the jury also, but whether any of them believed it or not, I could not tell. The greater part of them I feared were saying to themselves "This man is clever" rather than "This man is innocent."
During the entire recital, Littell kept his attention fixed on the jury, his keen gaze studying each countenance and trying to read there the impression made, but neither by sign nor word did he interrupt or endeavor to lead the witness. Evidently he was playing his best card, and, alas! his only one.
There was a few moments interval after the conclusion of Winters's direct evidence while the prosecution consulted together before the District Attorney began his cross-examination, and during that time Winters sat listlessly in his chair, seemingly indifferent to his surroundings. I think his long siege of trouble and sickness must have more or less stupefied him or have made him callous, perhaps desperate. Whatever the cause, his mental attitude was probably the best possible one under the circumstances as it made it unlikely he would become either nervous or excited.
The cross-examination proved a long and searching one, enough to tax the nerve of any ordinary man, but except for some signs of physical weakness, Winters remained perfectly composed, nor could the lawyers trip him up in any particular. He reiterated his story, piece by piece, in response to their questions, deviating in no particular from his first statement, while in new matters broached by them he was apparently entirely candid.
He admitted the bad feeling he felt towards his cousin and charged it to the unfair provisions of his father's will. He confirmed Benton's testimony that he frequently demanded money of his cousin.
He denied any knowledge of the contents of White's will and also denied that he had ever corresponded in any way with White, or that there was any secret between them. This last was in reply to questions by which the State's officers endeavored unsuccessfully to connect him with the letter found by Miles, as also with the conversation related by Belle Stanton.
In no particular could they break down his testimony. They did, however, show by his own admissions, that he was an idler and a drunkard, and a man of bad reputation and associates, but his answers were so freely given that these facts lost some of their damaging effect. Altogether, he must have made about as favorable an impression as a man in his position could, but I could see no reason to hope that it had done more for him than possibly to excite the interest and in some degree the sympathy of the jury.
When it came to Littell's turn to re-examine, he left his seat and, going over to the prisoner, took him by the arm and raised him to his feet.
"Winters," he said, "I believe you have told all you know of the case, but before you leave the stand, I have one more question to ask you. I want you to tell this jury, and tell them upon the solemn oath you have taken, had you any hand in your cousin's death or any knowledge of it?"
Winters looked at him and then at the jury before he spoke and then answered firmly: