VERDICT

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All eyes in the room were focused on the figure in black robes. Except for the whirl of the fans--three, wooden slatted, sluggishly revolving in strategically placed positions overhead--not a sound was uttered throughout the largest room in the entire building. Its spacious layout, under normal circumstances, would have more than adequately accommodated all present. On this stifflingly hot day in early September it was filled well past capacity.

Of the hundreds of bodies packed willingly into the silent chamber, only one moved. This solitary mobile individual unhurriedly spanned the space between the dais--where the august figure reigned over the captive audience of onlookers--toward the boxed seats to its right. Silently, the gentleman in the seat furtherest to the left, slowly rose and surrendered a crisp white envelope. It was accepted by the appointed individual who returned to the dais. All eyes were obliged to follow.

Accepting the envelope, sealed and official in appearance, the robed Honorable S. Rutherford Hughes addressed the gentleman standing yet in the boxed rows of seats. With a nod of his head, the gentleman affirmed the written contents of the envelope. Judge Hughes then returned the envelope to the clerk, who placed it back into the hands of the foreman, Bobby Joe Wheeler.

"The defendant will please rise," Judge Hughes commanded, shocking the silenced room into motion. In a flurry of activity, the two men seated to his right at the long table reserved for the attorneys and the accused, were on their feet at once. Again, the room fell silent as the defendant faced the boxed seats.

Turning his attention to the same gentleman holding the recently shuttled envelope, now opened, the judge demanded, "Mr. Foreman, you will please read the verdict . . ."

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The Verdict . . .

the AMERICAN CONSCIOUS

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