nizing the balls of
his fingers; there were whispered ejaculations of 'Why, it's so--I never
noticed that before!'] The patterns on the right hand are not the same as
those on the left. [Ejaculations of 'Why, that's so, too!'] Taken finger
for finger, your patterns differ from your neighbor's. [Comparisons were
made all over the house--even the judge and jury were absorbed in this
curious work.] The patterns of a twin's right hand are not the same as
those on his left. One twin's patterns are never the same as his fellow
twin's patterns--the jury will find that the patterns upon the finger
balls of the twins' hands follow this rule. [An examination of the
twins' hands was begun at once.] You have often heard of twins who were
so exactly alike that when dressed alike their own parents could not tell
them apart. Yet there was never a twin born in to this world that did not
carry from birth to death a sure identifier in this mysterious and
marvelous natal autograph. That once known to you, his fellow twin could
never personate him and deceive you."
Wilson stopped and stood silent. Inattention dies a quick and sure death
when a speaker does that. The stillness gives warning that something is
coming. All palms and finger balls went down now, all slouching forms
straightened, all heads came up, all eyes were fastened upon Wilson's
face. He waited yet one, two, three moments, to let his pause complete
and perfect its spell upon the house; then, when through the profound
hush he could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, he put out his
hand and took the Indian knife by the blade and held it aloft where all
could see the sinister spots upon its ivory handle; then he said, in a
level and passionless voice:
"Upon this haft stands the assassin's natal autograph, written in the
blood of that helpless and unoffending old man who loved you and whom you
all loved. There is but one man in the whole earth whose hand can
duplicate that crimson sign"--he paused and raised his eyes to the
pendulum swinging back and forth--"and please God we will produce that
man in this room before the clock strikes noon!"
Stunned, distraught, unconscious of its own movement, the house half
rose, as if expecting to see the murderer appear at the door, and a
breeze of muttered ejaculations swept the place. "Order in the
court!--sit down!" This from the sheriff. He was obeyed, and quiet
reigned again. Wilson stole a glance at Tom, and said to himself, "He is
flying signals of distress n