And always he would daily ask the Red Fox about his trial
and ask him questions in the night, and his devilish instinct told
him the day that the Red Fox, too, was sentenced to death-he saw
it in the gray pallour of the old man's face, and he cackled his
glee like a demon. For the evidence against the Red Fox was too
strong. Where June sat as chief witness against Rufe Tolliver--
John Hale sat as chief witness against the Red Fox. He could not
swear it was a cartridge shell that he saw the old man pick up,
but it was something that glistened in the sun, and a moment later
he had found the shell in the old man's pocket--and if it had been
fired innocently, why was it there and why was the old man
searching for it? He was looking, he said, for evidence of the
murderer himself. That claim made, the Red Fox's lawyer picked up
the big rifle and the shell.
"You say, Mr. Hale, the prisoner told you the night you spent at
his home that this rifle was rim-fire?"
"He did." The lawyer held up the shell.
"You see this was exploded in such a rifle." That was plain, and
the lawyer shoved the shell into the rifle, pulled the trigger,
took it out, and held it up again.
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