it was painful for me to reflect
that the last time I saw my cousin we parted in anger. He charge me
with attempting to overreach him, and I left the house in
indignation."

"That was the last time you saw him?"

"The last time I saw him alive."

"Was there any communication between you two after that?"

"No."

"None whatever?"

"None."

"Are you quite positive?"

"As positive as I can be that I live and have my senses."

Lawyer Perkins pulled a black strand of hair over his forehead,
and remained silent for nearly a minute.

"Mr. Shackford, are you sure that your cousin did not write a note
to you on the Monday preceding the night of his death?"

"He may have written a dozen, for all I know. I only know that I
never received a note or a letter from him in the whole course of my
life."

"Then how do you account for the letter which has been found in
your rooms in Lime Street,--a letter addressed to you by Lemuel
Shackford, and requesting you to call at his house on that fatal
Tuesday night?"

"I--I know nothing about it," stammered Richard. "There is no such
paper!"

"It was in this office less than one hour ago," said Lawyer
Perkins sternly. "It was brought here for me to identify Lemuel
Shackford's handwriting. Justice Beemis has that paper!"

"Justice Beemis has it!" exclaimed Richard.

"I have nothing more to say," observed Lawyer Perkins, reaching
out his hand towards the green bag, as a sign that the interview was
ended. "There were other points I wished to have some light thrown
on; but I have gone far enough to see that it is useless."

"What more is there?" demanded Richard in a voice that seemed to
come through a fog. "I insist on knowing! You suspect me of my
cousin's murder?"

"Mr. Taggett does."

"And you?"

"I am speaking of Mr. Taggett."

"Well, go on, speak of him," said Richard desperately. "What else
has he discovered?"

Mr. Perkins wheeled his chair round until he faced the young man.

"He has discovered in your workshop a chisel with a peculiar break
in the edge,--a deep notch in the middle of the bevel. With that
chisel Lemuel Shackford was killed."

Richard gave a perceptible start, and put his hand to his head, as
if a sudden confused memory had set the temples throbbing.

"A full box of safety matches," continued Mr. Perkins, in a cold,
measured voice, as though he were demonstrating a mathematical
problem, "contains one hundred matches. Mr. Taggett has discov