playing Indian in that way was a sexual one. The procedure also shows a lack of judgment and appreciation of the proprieties which argues strongly for mental deficiency—especially as he was then between ten and twelve years old. (For further items the reader is referred to pp. 113-120 of the Appendix, where the hypothetical questions have summed up the testimony.)

The imbecile is a coward. Jean Gianini is an imbecile. Unconsciously impelled by that strong instinct he seeks the company of Lida Beecher. As a matter of fact her friend, Miss Clark, testified that Miss Beecher had been annoyed at his attentions. He contrives an excuse to get her to come up to his house; when he reaches the house, he makes another excuse to get her to go farther, not, as generally believed, with the purpose of murdering her; perhaps only blindly following that instinct of sex and desiring to be in her company; more probably with the half-conscious purpose of satisfying his passion if he could find a suitable opportunity. They walk on; where they were going or how far they would have walked no one will ever know, but there came a time when for some reason her suspicions were aroused, or at least her common sense told her that it was foolish to go farther. Of course we have nothing but Jean’s statement, which may be true or may be false; instead of the simple statement that she thought she would go back as she saw no light, there may, for all we know, have been a strong argument; he may have made improper proposals which she resented; this led to blows with the fatal result. We have no means of knowing what actually took place at that spot. But even taking Jean’s own account, when she remarked that “she thought she would not go any further,” he saw that his plan was frustrated. Then he struck her with the monkey wrench which he happened to have in his pocket—for what purpose no one knows. Having struck her once, it was easy to strike the second and the third time. It was only natural for an imbecile to keep at it,—“finish the job” as he expressed it. According to the evidence he struck her with the knife approximately twenty-four times, finally hitting the jugular vein in the neck, as a result of which she probably bled to death.

As already stated, the writer has no desire to advance this as the theory of the deed. But if Jean is an imbecile, this theory is fully as good as that upon which the prosecution worked, and it eliminates entirely all necessity for elaborate planning. Up to this point we have shown that the fact of a confession and the character of the confession, both difficult to explain on the basis that Jean is a normal boy of sixteen, are entirely clear and perfectly characteristic of a high-grade imbecile.

Let us look now at his actions immediately after the deed. It is in evidence that Jean said he took the murdered girl by the foot because there was no blood there and he did not want to get blood on his hands for fear they would take his finger prints. Holding her by the foot, he dragged her out of the road behind some bushes and left her in the snow. He then went back into the road, making new tracks, which he made no effort to cover. Nor did he make any effort to cover the old tracks or the blood spots that were left along in the snow. Neither did he make any attempt to hide the hat nor the umbrella nor the broken comb which were left in the road; his care to take her by the foot where there was no blood is cited as evidence of forethought and judgment; but what shall we say of his failure to cover up his tracks when it was easy to have done so!

Again we must remind the reader that we have nothing but the boy’s testimony as to the fact that he took her by the foot or to explain why he took her by the foot, but in accepting his testimony as true there is nothing incompatible with high-grade imbecility.

The one peculiar thing about Jean is that he has read more than most imbeciles even of this high grade. But this peculiarity does not save him from being an imbecile, since there are cases of imbeciles who have read as much or even more than he. Furthermore, there is plenty of evidence in the case that Jean’s interest in reading has gone along the line, childlike, of crime. The various experts who examined him told of his talking about the case of the New York gunmen, of the Pomeroy case, of a murder in the South, and possibly others. He inquired about Mahoney, the would-be assassin of Mayor Mitchell. In connection with these crimes his reading of finger prints had made the same impression upon him that it would have upon any boy. He remembered what he had read and perhaps acted upon it, at least talked about it when the opportunity came, and pretended that he considered it in his action.

It needs no argument to show that all the rest of his conduct in leaving things as he did was imbecilic. Even many a high-grade imbecile would have been much more thoughtful and more careful to cover up the tracks in the snow. That Jean did not do so is in itself almost an unanswerable argument that he was an imbecile.

He then went home, and having washed the knife in the snow, put it in the pantry drawer. No evidence was produced, so far as the writer knows, to prove that this was the fact; we do not know whether the knife belonged in the pantry drawer and he put it back, or whether it belonged in his pocket and when he was through, he put it back in his pocket or put it somewhere else. Again, assuming that he told the truth, he certainly ran the risk of being questioned as to what he had been doing with the knife. He then went on an errand, and, according to his statement, went down to the railroad, hoping to jump a freight train. When he found the freight had gone, he hurried back home. These actions according to the prosecution indicate careful planning and a desire to get away; realizing the enormity of his deed he wanted to get out of town. Surely no normal youth of sixteen would have failed to get out of town even though he had missed the freight train; but his conduct is perfectly characteristic of an imbecile. One simple thought having failed to materialize, without planning further he goes back home, acts as no one but an imbecile could under such circumstances,—goes to bed, sleeps soundly, gets up the next morning, and goes to work. Then he makes another effort to get away. But how crude an effort it is. He walks quietly along the railroad track and, as already stated, makes no attempt to hide, but passes the trackman and goes into the station at Newport. When he meets a person from his own town, comes promptly and quietly back home. Surely an act much more befitting an imbecile than a normal boy of sixteen!

The writer was asked upon the stand whether these incidents indicated to his mind that Jean had intelligence and had planned this thing carefully. The answer was emphatically, “No.” At every turn they indicate an imbecile. We could cite many instances of imbeciles in our institutions who have done things of exactly the same character. Our high-grade boys frequently plan to run away, and often their plans are much more elaborately conceived and much better carried out than Jean’s was.

In speaking of the confession it may be noted also that not infrequently our boys when they have made a plan to run away cannot keep it until they can carry it out, but make a confession. They go to some attendant or officer and, without any compulsion, actually tell of their plan. In this way a great many times their purposes are frustrated. When two boys plan to run away, it is rare indeed if they carry out their scheme; it is almost certain that one of them will confess to somebody.

Jean manifested