innocent man on whom the law has laid its hand and in whose behalf its
inexorable machinery has been set in motion.

The presiding magistrate, emotionless and dry, dipped his pen while
Reuben, who had surrendered to his bail, was placed in the dock and the
charge read over to him. The counsel representing the police gave an
abstract of the case with the matter-of-fact air of a house-agent
describing an eligible property. Then, when the plea of "not guilty" had
been entered, the witnesses were called. There were only two, and when
the name of the first, John Hornby, was called, I glanced towards the
witness-box with no little curiosity.

I had not hitherto met Mr. Hornby, and as he now entered the box, I saw
an elderly man, tall, florid, and well-preserved, but strained and wild
in expression and displaying his uncontrollable agitation by continual
nervous movements which contrasted curiously with the composed demeanour
of the accused man. Nevertheless, he gave his evidence in a perfectly
connected manner, recounting the events connected with the discovery of
the crime in much the same words as I had heard Mr. Lawley use, though,
indeed, he was a good deal more emphatic than that gentleman had been in
regard to the excellent character borne by the prisoner.

After him came Mr. Singleton, of the finger-print department at Scotland
Yard, to whose evidence I listened with close attention. He produced the
paper which bore the thumb-print in blood (which had previously been
identified by Mr. Hornby) and a paper bearing the print, taken by
himself, of the prisoner's left thumb. These two thumb-prints, he
stated, were identical in every respect.

"And you are of opinion that the mark on the paper that was found in Mr.