in the back, and that still another 

 murder was attributed to him. 



Barker (changing his tack). "The 

 learned gentleman has not spent all 

 his time in the mountains? He has 

 lived in a town Golden, perhaps?" 



Dean (savagely). "Yes, I lived at 

 Golden. What's that got to do 

 with the case?" 



Barker (persuasively). "Perhaps he 

 kept a livery stable there about 

 two years ago?" 



Dean (defiantly, squaring toward 

 his tormentor the witness, the case 

 in hand was forgotten). "Yes, I kept 

 a livery stable two years ago. What 

 is that to you?" 



Every man now was sitting on the 

 edge of his seat. One juror who 

 was immediately back of Dean fas- 

 tened his eyes on that man's right 

 arm and gathered himself together 

 as a cat does before a spring. Still, 

 I did not quite comprehend. 



Barker (in a smooth voice). "And 

 left it for good reasons?" 



Dean (in a tone not pleasant to 

 hear). "And left it for good reasons." 



Barker. "Did you ever hear of a 

 man named Cortwright?" 



