A very benevolent old gentleman who sympathized with everybody concerned made a little speech:
“It seems to me, gentlemen, that when a man and wife have quarreled as bitterly as those two and have taken their troubles to court, there is no use trying to force them together again. If we give a verdict of not guilty, that will leave Mr. and Mrs. Dyckman married. But they must hate each other by now and that would mean lifelong misery and sin for both. So I think we will save valuable time and satisfy everybody best by giving a verdict of guilty. It won't hurt Dyckman any.”
“What about Mrs. Cheever?”
“Oh, she's gotta lotta money.”
None of the jury had ever had so much as that and it was equivalent to a good time and the answer to all prayers, so they did not fret about Charity's future. On the first ballot, after a proper reminiscence of the amusing incidents of the trial they proceeded to a decision. The verdict was unanimous that Jim was guilty as charged. Charity was not to get her forty dollars nor her good name.
When the jurors filed back into the box the court came to attention and listened to the verdict.
Jim and Charity were dazed as if some footpad had struck them over the head with a slingshot. Kedzie was hysterical with relief. She had suffered, too, throughout the trial. And now she had been vindicated.
She went to the jury and she shook hands with each member and thanked him.
“You know I accept the verdict as just one big beautiful birthday present.” It was not her birthday, but it sounded well, and she added, “I shall always remember your kindly faces. Never can I forget one of you.”
Two days later she met one of the unforgetable jurors on the street and did not recognize him. He had been one-twelfth of her knightly champions, but she cut him dead as an impertinent stranger when he tried to speak to her. She cut Skip Magruder still deader when he tried to ride home with her.