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guilt irrefutably upon the Kid and that Attorney Leonard, for all his shrewdness as a cross-examiner, was unable to shake.

The speeches were made. That of the prosecuting attorney was packed with facts; that of the counsel for the defense, fervid with eloquence. Lawyer Leonard emphasized "the reasonable doubt." He sounded the sentimental note … "this poor persecuted boy" … "a conspiracy of hatred to railroad an innocent youth to the gallows" … "the dead mother who loved him tenderly" … "if he were your own son" … The jury retired.

The courtroom relaxed. The crowd gossiped, weighing the case with light comment, advancing guesses on the outcome. "He's innocent." "Ought to be hanged." "You never can tell." "The dear God himself does not know what a jury will do."

Loud raps sounded on the door from inside the jury room. A bailiff bustled out. The jurymen came back into court and filed into the box. An instant hush fell upon the crowd.

"Gentlemen," said the judge, "have you agreed upon a verdict?"

"We have."

"The clerk will read it."

The clerk took the folded paper from the foreman's hand. As he opened it and smoothed it out, the crackle of the sheet of foolscap could be heard to the farthest corner in the perfect stillness.

"We, the jury, find the defendant, William H. Bonney, guilty of murder in the manner and form charged in the indictment and we fix his punishment at death."

The Kid received the verdict stoically. It was hardly a