21
THE BATTALION.
Goodrum moved his rig-ht arm up and down, imitating-
the motion of striking-, and answered: ,
“Murray.”
“Did you say Murray?”
“Yes.”
“Which Murra}’ is it?”
“Ploug-hman.”
“White, or black?”
“White.”
“How could you tell who it was in the dark?”
Goodrum tried to answer, but apparently could not.
But he moved his arm as if to reiterate his assurance that
he knew who struck him.
“But,” said Judg-e Dart, “there are a great many
Murrays in this town. Do you mean the man who rides
the roan horse or the one , who sells grapes?”
Goodrum tried in vain to answer this question. Short
ly after he sank into a state of stupor, and nothing- more
could be g-otten out of him.
But for a great uneasiness and some contradictions on
the part of one of the Murrays—not the man who lived out
of town, but the one who kept the vineyard—there would
have been no gronnd whatever to charg-e any of them with
the crime. Goodrum was either mistaken, deceived by
some resemblance in voices in the confusion of the nig-ht
attack upon him, or he was wilfully lying- in order to shield
the real criminal. But there was an evident trouble on the
mind of Elias Murray, the owner of the vineyard. Yet he
had not been pointed out by the old man’s declaration that
the Murray who struck him lived near the railroad, for EH-