In a voice very low, but clear and distinct, he replied:
"I desire to engage your services for the defense of my brother, Egbert Bland, charged with murder."
Perhaps I should have been surprised at this abrupt opening; perhaps I should have been in doubt as to his good faith—as to his sanity, even—but I was not. Why Again, I do not know.
"Won't you take a chair?" I said.
He made a graceful gesture of refusal.
"His case will come up tomorrow," he continued. "I should like you to be in the court room at ten-thirty."
He then named the court at which I was to appear, adding, "You will be well repaid," and with a low bow, left the room.
I FOUND it impossible to continue my researches that night; I could not get my mind away from my midnight visitor.
The more I considered the incident the more astonishment I felt—not at his behavior, but at my own. Why had I received such a commission tendered in such a manner, as though it was quite an ordinary occurrence and without asking a single question?
The next morning in the bright light of day I almost felt disposed to regard the whole matter as the product of my imagination. Nevertheless, I resolved to keep the appointment.
As I entered the court room shortly after ten o'clock I was astonished to see in the prisoner's dock a man whom I at once recognized as my client from his resemblance to my visitor of the night before. There were the same keen eyes, the same earnest face and sensitive mouth; but the black hair was thick and wavy, and he wore no mustache.
All my previous speculations were immediately forgotten, and I was a little nettled to find that the accused man was provided with counsel and the proceedings already begun. I was pleased to note, however, that he was represented by Major Rankin, a lawyer of considerable experience, with whom I had a slight acquaintance.
"Good morning, Major," I said, as I slipped into a chair beside him; "there seems to have been a slight mistake on the part of somebody. I was engaged on this case last night by a relative of this man."
"All right, Mr. Trollusk," he said, with a friendly smile, "sit in and help. Glad to have you associated with me, and—our friend needs all the help he can get, I am afraid."
There was nothing to do except follow his suggestion, and I prepared to watch the case as it developed from the testimony, inwardly swearing at the stupidity of my client's brother in not giving me a better opportunity for preparation.
The tedious preliminaries were finally concluded and a jury selected, Major Rankin making every effort to secure twelve men of middle age who never had before served on a criminal case, evidently relying more on their sympathy than on the strength of the evidence he had to offer.
The prosecuting attorney, a methodical man, had arranged to present his witnesses in logical sequence and was considerably vexed, I discovered, to find that the witness with whom he desired to open—one Hiram Hankles—was confined to his room with a nervous attack and would not be permitted to appear until the following morning.
The first witness called, therefore, was an employe of a firm of lawyers, who said that on June 30th, at about four o'clock in the afternoon, he had taken to the office of Roy Bland (the murdered man) on the tenth floor of the Corporations Building, a package containing negotiable securities of considerable value, which Bland had just inherited from a distant relative, under a will drawn before the birth of Egbert Bland, the younger brother. No codicil had been found, and Egbert had no interest in the estate.
"Who were in the office at the time?" the witness was asked.
"Mr. Bland; his secretary, Mr. Hankles, and his brother."
"Please describe the office."
"The office consists of two rooms. The door of the outer office is directly opposite the elevator; the inner office is to the right as you enter, and is on the corner formed by the side hall which runs to the back of the building."
"Have you visited this office more than once?"
"Yes, several times."
"How many means of entrance has it?"
"Two; the main door opposite the elevator and a door in the inner office leading to the side hall. There are two other doors, one in each room, but both are closed by the furniture placed in front of them."
"Are the windows accessible from the outside?"
"No; they open on the court and there are no fire escapes near them."
"Who received the securities?""
"Mr. Roy Bland."
"What did he do with them?"
"He placed them in the safe in the inner office.".
"Did he lock the safe?"
"Not while I was there."
"That is all."
Major Rankin, on cross examination, attempted to show that perfect good feeling existed between the two brothers, but the witness stated that he was in the office so short a time as not to be able to judge. The Major then asked:
"Could anyone enter the office without being seen from the elevator?"
"Yes, through the door opening on the side hall."
The witness was excused and an elevator operator of the Corporations Building took the stand. He testified that he had been running an elevator in that building for the past three years; that he knew all the tenants of the building; and that he was well acquainted with Roy Bland, who had occupied the same office for a number of years.
"Were you sufficiently acquainted with Mr. Bland to be able to identify him by his voice?"
"Yes; I have often talked with him." "Have you ever seen his brother, the defendant?"
"Yes, he came to the building frequently to see his brother."
"Did he visit his brother on June 30th?"
"Yes."
"Was there any unusual circumstance connected with this visit?"
"They quarreled."
"Who quarreled?"
"The two brothers."
"How do you know?"
"I heard them. I stopped at the tenth floor going up, and I heard angry voices which I recognized as that of Mr. Bland and his brother."
"What were they saying?" "I could not distinguish the words; I only know that they were speaking loudly and angrily. On the trip down Mr. Egbert Bland—"
"The defendant?"
"Yes, the gentleman there. He came out as I reached the tenth floor and slammed the door behind him and got in my car."
"Did he seem excited?"
"Yes."
"What time was this?"
"About half past four, I think. People were beginning to go home."
"When did Mr. Hankles leave the office?".
"At five minutes of five."
"How do you know the exact time?"
"He usually leaves just at five. I remember noticing the clock down stairs
