ped painfully and after a glance at the police officer he
went on:

"All the police is after is a record, see? And even the D.A.'s
office is the same. When the D.A. gets you before the jury he'll
do what he can to send you to the hot seat.

"Well I'm gonna give you the straight of this, Professor. Like I
said, I was giving a party to some friends of mine that night.
Early in the evening I get into a studd game on Second Avenue and
go broke, see? Cleaned, Professor. And here's this party comin'
off with some good guys and nice gals comin'.

"All I had in the apartment was about a quart and a half of gin
and a little rye. Not a thing to eat, not even a slice of bread or
a drop of ginger ale.

"So what do I do? I breaks into a delicatessen store and gets a
load of stuff. That was just about ten o'clock, the time the
papers say old man Schurman is croaked."

Sergeant Conners, who had listened with a sneer now emitted a loud
snort. The prisoner cast in his direction a fleeting look of
defiance. His eyes returned to Professor Brierly who had been
staring at him intently, while his tale unfolded. He continued:

"I know this sounds fishy, and what I'm gonna say now sounds even
more so, mebbe, but if you'll just listen to me, sir, I'll prove
what I say.

"This delicatessen store is a little place on Grove Street near
Eighth Avenue. Now you can think that I hears about this
delicatessen store being broke in and I tells you about it because
the real thief ain't comin' to the front to say he done it. You
can think I can't prove it; you can think this ain't much of a
alibi. But just listen, Professor. Look at this!"

He sprang from his chair and tore off his coat and vest. Conners
had also sprung to his feet, but subsided when he saw that the
prisoner did not contemplate violence. The prisoner in his haste
to unbutton his outer shirt, ripped the buttons. He exposed his
arm high up near the shoulder. He showed a ragged scar several
days old.

'Fingy' continued:

"See this, Professor? When I was takin' some things from the
shelves in the delicatessen store, I rips my coat and get this
scratch on a nail stickin' out from the shelf. The nail is three
shelves up from the floor near the last showcase on the right as
you go in."

Smith stopped. He was panting as though he had been running. Sweat
was streaming from his brow. He crumpled the shirt and wiped his
face with it. He began slowly putting on his shirt.

Professor