evidence; the latter had forwarded the letters to deceased, and had caused the police to put a stop to prisoner’s loitering near the club.
Now came a working man whose face Tom had quite forgotten; but he swore to the prisoner as one of the two men to whom he had said good-night as he passed them at the stile in the Finchley Road, on the night of Thursday, the 27th ult., about half-past ten; and it seemed that at the inquest he had sworn to deceased as the other. Prosecuting counsel had hardly resumed his seat when Culliford was on his legs.
“You say it was about half-past ten. Do you carry a watch?”
“No, sir.”
“Then how could you tell the hour?”
“Well, sir, no sooner had I left them two gents than I was sorry I hadn’t arst ’em the time; but next moment I met another, and arst him; and he told me it had just gone the ’alf-hour.”
“And could you identify that gentleman, too?”
Dead silence and a puzzled grin.
“Come, come, my man,” cried Culliford. “Could you identify the gentleman who told you the time if you were to see him again? Can you tell me anything at all about him? Could you pick him out if he were in this court at the present moment?”
Witness caused a thrill by taking the question literally and scanning several faces before he would reply; then he shook his head; his recollection of the third gentleman was confessedly indistinct.
“And yet you could swear to the other two!” said Culliford significantly. And he sat down with his first real point ably made.
