to say the least, in one whose knowledge of the crime embraced only what he related to the coroner.
"I questioned him minutely, avoiding any direct query that would be likely to arouse his suspicions. To my question, 'When did you last see Mr. Hathaway?' he replied that it was on the afternoon of Memorial Day, when the Grand Army post marched to the cemetery.
"'And before that—when?'
"He hesitated a few moments and answered that he had last talked with the cashier several days, probably a week, before the tragedy.
"'Your relations with Mr. Hathaway were always of a friendly nature?'
"'Eminently so.'
"The answer was straightforward and the look that accompanied it was open and direct, the only one, by the way, during the entire interview. Of course I was not at the time aware of the unharmonious interview which, as Miss Hathaway reported to you, occurred at her father's house on the evening preceding Memorial Day. Lie No. 1, conceding that he told the truth about the note which he received from the cashier on the evening of the tragedy.
"'Now, this revolver of Mr. Hathaway's, what sort of a weapon was it, Mr. Felton?' I asked. He gave me a half-startled look and I fancied that his gaze strayed for an instant to the safe set in the wall of his library. It flashed upon me that the lost gun was concealed behind the steel door of that same safe.
"'The revolver,' he said, in an absent sort of way; 'oh, it was an ordinary affair, 32 caliber, I believe they called it, nickeled and with a pearl handle. I had often seen it lying in Mr. Hathaway's drawer, but so far as I know it was never used.'
"'Would you recognize that revolver if you should see it again, Mr. Felton?'
"'I don't know as I could positively identify it. Revolvers are so much alike, are they not?' I nodded, and again his eyes shifted toward the door of his safe.
"Well, as I say, I talked with him for about an hour,
