hands on him. Once, just once.â
Judge Shinn looked at her as if he had never seen her before.
Hackett and the Hemuses appeared on the church steps. As the Judge led the way through the group of women and children to meet them, Johnny noticed Mert Isbelâs daughter Sarah and her child hanging about the edge of the crowd. The womanâs face was lively. But the liveliness died as her father pushed by her. She drew away, gripping her little girlâs hand.
âBurney, whatâs the meaning of this?â cried Judge Shinn. âLocking him in a coalbin!â
âGot no jail to lock him in, Judge,â said the constable.
âHe shouldnât be here at all! Have you notified Coroner Barn-well yet?â
âI got to talk that over with Doc Cushman. Docâs waitinâ for us over at Aunt Fannyâs.â
âAll Dr. Cushman can legally do is bring in a finding that death was caused by a criminal act, and report that finding at once to Coroner Barnwell in Cudbury. From that point on, the case is in Barnwellâs hands. He will either summon a coronerâs jury of six electorsââ
âJudge.â Hubert Hemusâs gaunt face was granite, only the jaws moving, like millstones grinding away at the words to come. âFor ninety-one years Fanny Adams belonged to the town. This is town business. Ainât nobody goinâ to tell us how to run town business. Now youâre an important judge and you know the law and how things ought to be done, and weâll be obliged for your advice as a judge and a neighbor. Weâll let Coroner Barnwell come down here and make his findinâs. If he wants a coronerâs jury, why, we got six qualified electors right here. Weâll do everythinâ legal. Ainât nobody goinâ to deprive this murderinâ furrin trash of his legal rights. Heâll have his lawyer and heâll have his chance to defend himself. But he ainât leavinâ Shinn Corners, no matter what. â
A murmur formed behind them like an oncoming wave. The sound tickled Johnnyâs scalp. He fought down another attack of nausea.
Hube Hemusâs cheerless glance went out over his neighbors. âWe got to get this organized, neighbors,â the First Selectman said. âGot to set a day and night guard over the prisoner. Got to set guards against outside meddlinâ. Got to see that the milkinâs doneâweâre a full hour late now!âgot lots to do. Right now I bâlieve the big boys better get on home and attend to the cows. Mert, you can send Calvin Waters back in your wagon with Sarah and the child to do your milkinâ; we need you here. We men stay and figger out what we got to do. The women with small children can take âem home, give âem somethinâ to eat, and put âem to bed. Bigger children can watch over âem. The women can get together and fix a community supper â¦â
Somehow, the Judge and Johnny found themselves shut off. They stood about on the periphery, watching and listening, but groups fell silent and drifted apart at their approach.
âIt must be me,â Johnny said to the Judge. âShinn or no Shinn, Iâm an outsider. Wouldnât it make it easier all around, Judge, if I packed and got out?â
âYouâd like that, wouldnât you?â said the Judge scornfully.
âWhat do you mean?â said Johnny.
The Judge looked suddenly quite old. âNothing. Nothing, Johnny. It has nothing to do with you. Itâs me. Iâve sat on the bench in Cudbury for too many years to be en rapport with Shinn Corners. Hube Hemus has passed the word around.â
It was from Ferriss Adams that they learned what had happened in the cellar of the church when the prisoner was brought down to the coalbin. Adams had the story from Samuel Sheare, whom he had sought out to discuss arrangements for Fanny Adamsâs funeral. Mr. Sheare had been