The jury was drawn in ten minutes. The witnesses that testified at the police court came on in the same order and gave the same testimony. Judge Powers asked the veiled woman we were preparing to rob if she had seen me at her house on the night in question or on any other night. She answered that she saw but one man, the one she shot. The detectives confined themselves to the truth. Powers looked at his watch with the air of a busy man being detained over a trifling matter, and dismissed them without cross-examination. He waved the landlord off the stand without questioning him. When the prosecutor said: “That’s our case, Your Honor,” Powers looked at him, and then to the jury.

“Is that all?” he asked, frowning.

I was put on the witness stand and answered “No” very positively to his question. The prosecutor hadn’t anything to cross-examine me about. He started a few questions, but was stopped and gave up. My attorney made some motion and was overruled. He then offered to let the case go without argument from either side, but the prosecutor wanted to talk and the judge told him to go ahead.

He argued about the same as the prosecutor in the police court, waved the bloody room-rent receipt and harped about the change of clothes and my absence from the room, and my refusal to make any statement. He ding-donged away till the judge ordered him to stop.

Judge Powers went over the case in five minutes, the jury was instructed in five more, and went away to the jury room. I was nervous. I thought my attorney had not asked enough questions, hadn’t argued enough. The judge went into his chambers. Judge Powers followed him in for a visit. A few courtroom hangers got up and went out. Nobody paid any attention to me. The bailiff who had me in charge strolled about the room, gossiping. There was no dock in the courtroom. I was sitting outside the railed-off enclosure at the attorneys’ table. The jury hadn’t been out fifteen minutes, but I was so nervous I couldn’t sit still, and got up to stretch my legs. The bailiff was busy talking to a man who came in from the street. His back was turned to me as I walked a few steps up the aisle in the direction of the door, and then back.