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M .1‘
The Red Robe in his bed. His servants who slept in an adjoining building heard nothing. Nor did the dogs bark. It is true some money or securities were stolen, but also certain family papers were taken. Remember that. It had rained the night before and footprints in the garden showed that some one had passed there whose right toe was out of his worn-out shoe. The judge who had charge of the case relied upon this evidence and declares that the murderer was a vagabond. I say this theory is false. The murderer was not a vagabond. The house was isolated and it is well known that within a radius of three or four leagues no tramp had been begging for anything to eat during the hours before the crime. Here the imaginary tramp, if there was one, would have eaten and drunk at the house of the murdered man either before or after the murder. But there is no trace which permits such a supposition that this was done. Imagine then, a man arriving exhausted by fatigue. He asks alms. He is refused. He conceals himself, and when night comes he robs and murders.
There is wine, bread, other food;
but he departs without touching it. Is it probable? No. If one says he was disturbed and fled, it is false, because your witness
declares that he saw the Vagabond in the morning some distance from the house and that the crime was committed before mid night. If my respected colleague, in addi tion to his rare qualities, had experience in such cases, he would know that empty bottles,
glasses, the remnants of food left on the table, constitute, so to speak, the signature which murdering tramps leave at the place of their trespasses.” The peasant judge says, "True. I know that detail to be so." The old retiring judge whispers to the young assistant. "That would lead to con demning anybody who happened to know anything." “Go on, go on," says the prosecuting attorney.
“Then," continues the sporting judge, "my respected colleague should have known this: after food a Vagabond needs shoes. This is so well known that tramps in prison beg shoes of the government to go to court with. According to the footprints the presumed crirninal's foot was about the size of that of his victim. Yet he did not take his shoes. Once more, if the assassin was a tramp, an expert in begging, tell me why he chose a
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lonely road when there was a road near there where it is traditional never to refuse alms to such travelers. One word more. Why did a tramp steal family papers which would identify him as the murderer as soon as he met the next gendarme? No. gentlemen, the guilty man was not a Vagabond. If you want to find him, don't hunt for him on the highways, seek him in the neighborhood of his victim; look for him among those who whether relations, friends or debtors, had an interest
in the disappearance of the victim." “Very just," says the prosecutor. "Admirable in logic and clearness," says the peasant judge. The sporting judge adds with confidence, "Believe me. It is a simple matter. If I had charge of the investigation I guarantee that before three days were over I would have the murderer behind the bars." "Good!" says the prosecutor. Then the host announces to the company that the scrupulous judge has just retired from the case, and formally offers the charge of the case to the sporting judge, who promptly accepts and promises to find the criminal in three days. whereupon the enthusiastic com pany go out joyfully to dinner and the host orders some of his best wine to celebrate his crescent hope of a conviction and-1a red robe. Then the play begins in earnest in the second act, which opens in the office of the sporting judge. His assistants are watching there for him and exprecs some curiosity as to why he is always tired when he returns from Bordeaux, where he was yesterday. His confidential assistant says that a magis trate of this district is always tired when he returns from Bordeaux. Then the sporting judge arrives, bustling but looking rather seedy and complaining of a headache. His confiden tial assistant soothes him by giving him some rare postage stamps which have turned up among ofiicial papers. And the judge's keen
delight in this fad is brought out much to the amusement of the audience. Then the judge examines his morning's mail, lays aside the chief papers and reads with a knowing smile a scented note. The audience gladly responds to this point. At last he begins to consider the business of the day, when a visitor is announced. He is irritated at the interruption, but when he learns that the visitor is a deputy of influence he sends his assistants out of the room and admits the deputy.
