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PAGE 3

My First Jury Case
by [?]

This man’s dog had loved him. Drunk or sober, kind or cruel, his dog was not content out of his presence. Why was he not with the man on this fatal night? Because Belt had chained him in order to follow out his vengeance untraced. The master knew the sagacity of his dog. He wanted no companion on his midnight stroll. And when, restless and uneasy, the dog was let loose and shown the garment of his master, what did he do? He dashed away, nose to earth, in eager, loving pursuit, along the road to Grant’s cottage. There he sniffs the ground, where undoubtedly the familiar scent lay, jumps upon the window-ledge with his fore paws, whimpers, starts away, and follows the trail down the path to the beloved body now cold in death.

What proof more convincing than that Belt had been there? How improbable the trumped-up story that Grant could decoy from his home his bitterest enemy, especially at the midnight hour! A loaded pistol and a chisel were found under the window. It had been alleged that Grant placed them there for his own base purposes. But admitting that man could deceive, the dog would not. Canine instinct could not lie. Every man who knew the nature of the animal must feel convinced that Belt’s dog would never have gone to that window except in honest pursuit of his master.

I felt that my speech had told, and as I sat down there was a stir in the vast crowd. My client’s face was flushed, and the wife’s somber veil was thrown back, revealing her large eyes lustrous with hope.

The Commonwealth’s attorney occupied the floor for an hour, during which he ridiculed what he termed the schoolboy tales from his youthful opponent. But when the jury retired I felt that my influence was still uppermost. The suspense was trying, but it did not last long. They reported in a very short time, and the verdict, announced in a clear ringing voice, was “Not guilty!”

Grant sprang forward as his friends pressed near and seized my hand in a vise-like grip. Loud cheers rent the air, for again the fickle public had veered around, the crowd surged to and fro, women wept, and the fervent “Thank God!” that broke from the pallid lips of the young wife rang in my ears for many a day.

The foreman of the jury, a plain, intelligent farmer, drew me aside and said, “That dog done the business! There was no gittin’ around that! I’ve got a dog myself.”

Grant was forced to begin life anew, for his counsels’ fees about consumed his little savings, but he remained at his post honest and industrious, and is one of the leading men in the now populous section.