"What man?" I asked.
"The man who asked me all the questions," Mary sobbed. "There wasn't
anything he didn't ask me."
"Did he ask you about the conversation between Helen and Jim?"
"He asked me everything, I tell you!" Mary exclaimed angrily. "He
twisted and turned everything I said into something horrible."
Discouraged, I led the way to the car. I drove out into the country,
thinking the fresh air might quiet Mary's nerves. Twice I tried to
start a conversation about some trivial thing, to take her mind off her
unpleasant experience of the afternoon, but with no success. It always
came back to the jury room. Our drive, for the most part, was a silent
one. At length we turned back and as we walked up the steps of Mary's
home, her father came from the house with a newspaper in his hand.
"This is terrible, Warren."
"What is it?" I cried, reaching for the sheet.
It was an extra edition of _The Press_, our only respectable paper. In
black head-lines, I read the words:
"SOCIETY LEADER INDICTED FOR
HUSBAND'S MURDER!"
Then underneath in small type:
"Frank Woods, Well Known Business Man, Released on $10,000 Bail."
Helen and Frank Woods had both been indicted.