eft on the floor
or in a closet?"

"It is possible, but not likely. Anyhow, it was not the slipper alone.
It was the other things _and_ the slipper. It was--"

"Exactly. Now, Mrs. Pitman, this knife. Can you identify it
positively?"

"I can."

"But isn't it true that this is a very common sort of knife? One that
nearly every housewife has in her possession?"

"Yes, sir. But that knife handle has three notches in it. I put the
notches there myself."

"Before this presumed crime?"

"Yes, sir."

"For what purpose?"

"My neighbors were constantly borrowing things. It was a means of
identification."

"Then this knife is yours?"

"Yes."

"Tell again where you left it the night before it was found floating
down-stairs."

"On a shelf over the stove."

"Could the dog have reached it there?"

"Not without standing on a hot stove."

"Is it not possible that Mr. Ladley, unable to untie the boat,
borrowed your knife to cut the boat's painter?"

"No painter was cut that I heard about The paper-hanger--"

"No, no. The boat's painter--the rope."

"Oh! Well, he might have. He never said."

"Now then, this towel, Mrs. Pitman. Did not the prisoner, on the
following day, tell you that he had cut his wrist in freeing the boat,
and ask you for some court-plaster?"

"He did not," I said firmly.

"You have not seen a scar on his wrist?"

"No." I glanced at Mr. Ladley: he was smiling, as if amused. It made
me angry. "And what's more," I flashed, "if he has a cut on his wrist,
he put it there himself, to account for the towel."

I was sorry the next moment that I had said it, but it was too late.
The counsel for the defense moved to exclude the answer and I received
a caution that I deserved. Then:

"You saw Mr. Ladley when he brought your boat back?"

"Yes."

"What time was that?"

"A quarter after four Monday morning."

"Did he come in quietly, like a man trying to avoid attention?"

"Not particularly. It would have been of no use. The dog was barking."

"What did he say?"

"That he had been out for medicine. That his wife was sick."

"Do you know a pharmacist named Alexander--Jonathan Alexander?"

"There is such a one, but I don't know him."

I was excused, and Mr. Reynolds was called. He had heard no quarreling
that Sunday night; had even heard Mrs. Ladley laughing. This was
about nine o'clock. Yes, they had fought in the afternoon. He had not
overheard any words, but their voices were quarre