ts made
that morning by Swain did so agree with the photographs of the prints
on the garments. Finally the witness was turned over to me for
cross-examination.

"Mr. Sylvester," I began, "are you willing to assert that those
finger-prints could have been made by no man in the world except Mr.
Swain?"

Sylvester hesitated, just as I hoped he would do.

"No," he answered, at last, "I can't assert that, Mr. Lester. There
may be three or four other men in the world with finger-prints like
these. But the probabilities against any of these men having made
these prints are very great. Besides, it is a thing easily proved--the
number of persons who might have committed the crime is limited, and
it is an easy thing to secure prints of their fingers."

"That is what I was about to propose," I agreed. "I should like the
finger-prints taken of every one who was in the house Thursday night."

"Do I understand that your case stands or falls upon this point?"
asked the coroner.

"Your Honor," I answered, "my client cannot explain how the prints of
his fingers, if they are his, came to be upon that robe. The one thing
he is certain of is that they were not placed there by him. Not once,
during the entire evening, was my client near enough to Mr. Vaughan to
touch him; not once did he so far lose consciousness as to be unable
to remember what occurred. We have racked our brains for an
explanation, and the only possible one seems to be that the prints of
the real murderer resemble those of my client. And when I say the real
murderer," I added, "I do not necessarily mean one of the persons whom
we know to have been in the house. Outside of these finger-prints,
there has been absolutely no evidence introduced here to prove that
the crime might not have been committed by some person unknown to us."

"You can scarcely expect the jury to believe, however," Goldberger
pointed out, "that this supposititious person had finger-tips like
your client's."

"No," I agreed, "I make no such assertion; my hope is that we shall
soon have the prints of the real murderer; and when I say the real
murderer," I added, looking at the jury, "I believe every one present
understands who I mean."

The coroner rapped sharply; but I had said what I wished to say, and
sat down. The witnesses of the morning were ordered to be brought out.
Sylvester arranged his ink-pad and sheets of paper.

"It seems to me," remarked the coroner, with a smile, "that you an