"ELEVEN MONTHS AND TEN DAYS"
It was a feeble old man of seventy-two this time who sat facing the
jury, an old man with bent back, scant gray hair, and wistful,
pleading eyes.
He had been arrested in the mountains of Kentucky and had been brought
to Covington for trial, chained to another outlaw, one of those
"moonshiners" who rob the great distilleries of part of their profits
and the richest and most humane Government on earth of part of
its revenue.
For eleven months and ten days he had been penned up in one of the steel
cages of Covington jail.