Eli | Page 6

fence of an arternoon, and wimmen inside the house, to git Cap'n A. K.
P. to take their boys. But you let Cap'n Thomas give out that he wants
boys, and he hez to glean 'em--from the poor-house, and from
step-mothers, and where he can: the women knows! Still," he added,
"Cap'n Thomas 's a good cap'n. I've nothin' to say ag'in him. He's
smart!"
"Gentlemen," said the foreman, when the officer, at last, had securely
locked them in, "shall we go through the formality of a ballot? If the
case were a less serious one, we might have rendered a verdict in our
seats."
"What's the use foolin' 'round ballotin'?" said a thick-set butcher. "Ain't
we all o' one mind?"
"It is for you to say, gentlemen," said the foreman. "I should n't want to
have it go abroad that we had not acted formally, if there was any one
disposed to cavil."
"Mr. Speaker," said George Washington, rising and standing in the
attitude of Webster, "I rises to appoint to order. We took ballast in de
prior cases, and why make flesh of one man an' a fowl of another?"
"Very well," said the foreman, a trifle sharply; "'the longest way round
is the shortest way home.'"
Twelve slips of paper were handed out, to be indorsed guilty, "for
form." They were collected in a hat and the foreman told them
over--"just for form." "'Guilty,' 'guilty,' 'guilty,' 'guilty,'--wait a minute,"
he said, "here is a mistake. Here is one 'not guilty'--whose is this?"

There was a pause.
"Whose is it?" said the foreman, sharply.
Eli turned a little red.
"It's mine," he said.
"Do you mean it?" said the foreman.
"Of course I mean it," he answered.
"Whew!" whistled the foreman. "Very well, sir; we'll have an
understanding, then. This case is proved to the satisfaction of every
man who heard it, I may safely say, but one. Will that one please state
the grounds of his opinion?"
"I ain't no talker," said Eli, "but I ain't satisfied he 's guilty--that's all."
"Don't you believe the witnesses?"
"Mostly."
"Which one don't you believe?"
"I can't say. I don't believe he's guilty."
"Is there one that you think lied?"
No answer.
"Now it seems to me--" said a third juryman.
"One thing at a time, gentlemen," said the foreman. "Let us wait for an
answer from Mr. Smith. Is there any one that you think lied? We will
wait, gentlemen, for an answer."
There was a long pause. The trial seemed to Eli Smith to have shifted
from the court to this shabby room, and he was now the culprit.

All waited for him; all eyes were fixed upon him.
The clock ticked loud! Eli counted the seconds. He knew the
determination of the foreman.
The silence became intense.
"I want to say my say," said a short man in a pea-jacket,--a retired San
Francisco pilot, named Eldridge. "I entertain no doubt the man is guilty.
At the same time, I allow for differences of opinion. I don't know this
man that's voted 'not guilty,' but he seems to be a well-meaning man. I
don't know his reasons; probably he don't understand the case. I should
like to have the foreman tell the evidence over, so as if he don't see it
clear, he can ask questions, and we can explain."
"I second de motion," said George Washington.
There was a general rustle of approval.
"I move it," said the pilot, encouraged.
"Very well, Mr. Eldridge," said the foreman. "If there is no objection, I
will state the evidence, and if there is any loop-hole, I will trouble Mr.
Smith to suggest it as I go along;" and he proceeded to give a summary
of the testimony, with homely force.
"Now, sir?" he said, when he had finished.
"I move for another ballot," said Mr. Eldridge.
The result was the same. Eli had voted "not guilty."
"Mr. Smith," said the foreman, "this must be settled in some way. This
is no child's play. You can't keep eleven men here, trifling with them,
giving no pretence of a reason."
"I have n't no reasons, only that I don't believe he 's guilty," said Eli. "I
'm not goin' to vote a man into State's-prison, when I don't believe he
done it," and he rose and walked to the window and looked out. It was

low tide. There was a broad stretch of mud in the distance, covered
with boats lying over disconsolate. A driving storm had emptied the
streets. He beat upon the rain-dashed glass a moment with his fingers,
and then he sat down again.
"Well, sir," said the foreman, "this is singular conduct. What do you
propose to do?"
Silence.
"I suppose you realize that the rest of us are pretty