his eye. He seemed himself to realize this, for he lifted his head
still higher, though his general aspect remained unchanged.

"I mean," the coroner exclaimed, evidently nettled that the young
man had been able to draw such a conclusion from his words, "that you
were the last one to see him previous to his assassination by some
unknown individual?"

The secretary folded his arms, whether to hide a certain tremble
which had seized him, or by that simple action to gain time for a
moment's further thought, I could not then determine. "Sir," he
replied at length, "I cannot answer yes or no to that question. In all
probability I was the last to see him in good health and spirits, but
in a house as large as this I cannot be sure of even so simple a fact
as that." Then, observing the unsatisfied look on the faces around,
added slowly, "It is my business to see him late."

"Your business? Oh, as his secretary, I suppose?"

He gravely nodded.

"Mr. Harwell," the coroner went on, "the office of private
secretary in this country is not a common one. Will you explain to us
what your duties were in that capacity; in short, what use Mr.
Leavenworth had for such an assistant and how he employed you?"

"Certainly. Mr. Leavenworth was, as you perhaps know, a man of
great wealth. Connected with various societies, clubs, institutions,
etc., besides being known far and near as a giving man, he was
accustomed every day of his life to receive numerous letters, begging