Joseph Orton did it.

Something he told himself he would never do.

Shoot a man to kill in order to please his lover.

John's words still echoing in his mind after he pulled the trigger.

Oh Lord!

Joseph jolted back a few steps before slipping on the roof of the shed.

He dropped his rifle and fell to the ground beside it.

He took a moment to make sure he wasn't injured.

Grabbed his rifle and ran off into the woods.

He needed to get rid of the rifle as fast as he could.

Earlier that day he had stowed away his coat, a bundle and his boots near the

northwestern corner of the property.

He did this as he knew the boot prints would be recognized.

After grabbing his items he continued north about 60 feet

where he was met by a ravine.

Near the sandy waters he drove the rifle into the mud

and covered it with damp leaves.

Once he changed his socks and put on his boots and coat

he continued until he was a mile away from Cherry Hill on Pearl Street.

He made his way back to Cherry Hill as though he was just coming back from town

and when he got to the stable he saw others gathering

and walking towards the house.

...