passing. It is probable he entered by the front door, which Mr.
Shrimplin found open, and left by the side door, which was also open,
but the crowd gathered so quickly both in the yard and in the street,
that it has been useless to look for footprints in the freshly fallen
snow. One point is quite clear, however, and that is the hour when the
crime was committed. We can fix that almost to a certainty. The murderer
did his work between half past five and six o'clock. Mr. Shrimplin has
just informed us that the only person he saw on the Square, until he met
Colonel Harbison, was John North, whom he encountered within a block of
McBride's store and with whom he spoke. While Mr. Shrimplin stopped to
speak with Mr. North the town bell rang the hour--six o'clock."

The coroner paused.

There was a moment's silence, then Marshall Langham made a half step
forward. A sudden palsy had seized him, yet he was determined to speak;
he felt that he must be heard, that he had something vital to say. An
impulse he could not control compelled him to turn in the direction of
Andy Gilmore, and for a brief instant his eyes fastened themselves on
the gambler, who returned his gaze with a cynical smile, as though to
say: "You haven't the nerve to do it." With the tip of his tongue
Langham moistened his swollen lips. He was about to speak now, and
Gilmore, losing his former air of bored indifference, leaned forward,
eager to catch every word.

"I would like to say," he began in a tolerably steady voice, "that North
left my office at half past four o'clock yesterday afternoon intending
to see Mr. McBride; indeed, happening to glance from my window, I saw
him enter the store. Before he left my office he had explained the
business that was taking him to McBride's; we had discussed it at some