do wish you to, Mr. Stone," said Mr. Goodrich, and his voice
trembled a little, for he knew not where the blow might fall. But after
Fleming Stone's wonderful detective work in the case of Gregory Hall,
the district attorney felt full confidence in his powers.

Sitting quietly by the library table, with the eyes of all the company
upon him, Fleming Stone said, in effect, to them just what he had said
to me. He told of the revolver in the drawer with the financial papers.
He told how the midnight visitor must have been some friend or neighbor,
whose coming would in no way startle or alarm Mr. Crawford, and whose
interest in the question of stocks was desperate.

And then Fleming Stone turned suddenly to Lemuel Porter, and said:
"Shall I go on, Mr. Porter, or will you confess here and now?"

It was as if a thunderbolt had fallen. Hitherto unsuspected, the guilt
of Lemuel Porter was now apparent beyond all doubt. White-faced and
shaking, his burning eyes glared at Fleming Stone.

"What are you?" he whispered, in hoarse, hissing tones. "I feared you,
and I was right to fear you. I have heard of you before. I tried to
prevent your coming here, but I could not. And I knew, when you came,
that I was doomed--doomed!

"Yes," he went on, looking around at the startled faces. "Yes, I killed
Joseph Crawford. If I had not, he would have ruined me financially.
Randolph knows that--and Philip Crawford, too. I had no thought of
murder in my heart. I came here late that night to renew the request I
had made in my earlier visit that evening--that Joseph Crawford
would unload his X.Y. stock gradually, and in that way save me. I had
overtraded; I had pyramided my paper profits until my affairs were
in such a state that a sudden drop of ten points would wipe me out
entirely. But Joseph Crawford was adamant to my entreaties. He said he
would see to it that at the opening of the market the next morning X.Y.
stock should be hammered down out of sight. Details are unnecessary. You
lawyers and financial men understand. It was in his power to ruin or to
save me and he chose to ruin me. I know, why, but that concerns no one
here. Then, as by chance, he moved a paper in the drawer, and I saw the
pistol. In a moment of blind rage I grasped it and shot him. Death was
instantaneous. Like one in a dream, I laid down the pistol, and came
away. I was saved, but at what a cost! No one, I think, saw me come or
go. I was afterward puzzled to know what b