"Fortunately a particularly impressionable age, good for the first planting of the seeds of sanity. My father was murdered, I mentioned to you."
"Yes," said Pete, attentively.
"He was shot down, in cold blood. I happened to see it. My mother and I were with him; we were in an automobile. He did not raise his hands at the order of two young men who stopped the car; he had an idea of defending my mother from consequences other than robbery. So they shot him.
"Later, in connection with some other accident, the police picked them up. My mother identified them and they were brought to one of the farcical mummery shows called a trial by jury. I attended the trial. The prosecution considered it advisable; it would help to turn sympathy away from the prisoners to my mother and me. The plan, however, did not succeed. Sympathy for the prisoners prevailed; the public wept and prayed for them; the jury acquitted them positively amid cheers.
"It was a tremendous experience for me; for I had seen those men kill my father; and
