"I have never touched it, at that time or before."

She could not be shaken in her testimony and was excused. She had
borne her grilling exceedingly well, and, in spite of her flippancy,
there was a ring of sincerity about the testimony that gave it weight.

Following her evidence, the testimony of Tom, the cook, made things
look bad for Singleton, by connecting him with Mrs. Johns's intruder
in the captain's room. He told of Singleton's offer to make him a
key to the galley with wire. It was clear that Singleton had been
a prisoner in name only, and this damaging statement was given weight
when, on my recall later, I identified the bunch of keys, the file,
and the club that I had taken from Singleton's mattress. It was plain
enough that, with Singleton able to free himself as he wished, the
attack on Burns and the disappearance of the axe were easily enough
accounted for. It would have been possible, also, to account for
the white figure that had so alarmed the men, on the same hypothesis.
Cross-examination of Tom by Mr. Goldstein, Singleton's attorney,
brought out one curious fact. He had made no dark soup or broth for
the after house. Turner had taken nothing during his illness but
clam bouillon, made with milk, and the meals served to the four women
had been very light. "They lived on toast and tea, mostly," he said.

That completed the taking of evidence for the day. In spite of the
struggles of the clever young Jew, the weight of testimony was
against Singleton. But there were curious discrepancies.

Turner went on the stand the next morning.