shaking his fist at him, "do you want to be taken for a d--n
liar? `Morning of the twenty-second of July, about 3.30 A.M.,
while on post I' You never talked like that in your life."

By this time the "cop" is "mad clear through."

"I'm no liar!" he retorts. "I saw the ------ pull his gun and
shoot!"

"Well, why didn't you say so?" laughs the prosecutor, and the
officer mollified with a cigar, dimly perceives the
objectionable feature of his testimony.

About this time one of the sleuths comes in to report that
certain much-desired witnesses have been "located" and are in
custody downstairs. The assistant makes immediate preparation
for taking their statements. Then one of the experts comes in
for a chat about a new phase of the case occasioned by the
discovery that the defendant actually did have spasms when an
infant. The assistant wisely makes an appointment for the
evening. A telegram arrives saying that a witness for the
defence has just started for New York from Philadelphia and
should be duly watched on arrival. The district attorney
sends for the assistant to inquire if he has looked up the law
on similar cases in Texas and Alabama--which he probably has
not done; and a friend on the telephone informs him that
Tomkins, who has been drawn on the jury, is a boon companion
of the prisoner and was accustomed to play bridge with him
every Sunday night before the murder.