"Where did you carry it?"

"In my hip pocket."

"Which hip pocket?"

Hull was puzzled at the question. "Why, this one--the right one, o'
course. There wouldn't be any sense in carryin' it where I couldn't
reach it."

"That's so. Mr. Johns, you may take the witness again."

The young lawyer asked questions about the Dry Valley irrigation
project. He wanted to know why there was dissatisfaction among the
farmers, and from a reluctant witness drew the information that the
water supply was entirely inadequate for the needs of the land under
cultivation.

Mrs. Hull, called to the stand, testified that on the evening of the
twenty-third a man had knocked at their door to ask in which apartment
Mr. Cunningham lived. She had gone to the door, answered his question,
and watched him pass upstairs.

"What time was this?"

"9.20."

Again Kirby felt a tide of excitement running in his arteries. Why
were this woman and her husband setting back the clock thirty-five
minutes? Was it to divert suspicion from themselves? Was it to show