"Yes, I heard of it. What of it?"

"Well, the bird who b.u.mped off this Miller got in by using a rope hooked around a chimney like you did--excuse me--like they alleged you did in Yonkers. He used climbing irons too. You used to be a lineman didn't you, Boyle?"

Brasher stopped, waiting for the effect of this on the prisoner.

He continued:

"Now all you got to do, Boyle, is to convince us that you weren't there when Mr. Miller was killed and we'll let you go. See."

Boyle's eyes blinked. His ruddy complexion turned several shades lighter. He blinked again. He wet his lips. He made a visible effort to appear calm. He sneered:

"Just like a dumb cop. Asking me to prove that I didn't do it. You ought to know by this time that it's up to you to prove that I did it, that I was where you say I was."

"I'm not saying anything--yet, Boyle. I'm not saying you was there, but--" he stood up and was standing over the prisoner his face thrust forward, his eyes glinting threateningly, "Boyle, you got a record as long as a pedigreed dog. You've been mugged and finger printed all over this country. You done a bit in Joliet for getting into a house the same way as you got in in Yonkers and as you got in--Miller's Folly. All you got to do, Boyle, is prove--sure you're right about the law, Boyle, about us having to prove it, you're right about that.

"But just picture the jury, Boyle. The jury don't know as much law as you do. We'll give the jury your record, see? We'll tell 'em--we'll tell 'em plenty. Where was you that night Boyle?"

Boyle wet his lips.

"I was in a 'speak' that night. About eight o'clock I got talking with a man, a stranger, a man I don't know. We had a couple of drinks. He had a business proposition to make and he wanted me to take a drive with him. I went. Next thing I knew, I woke up in a ditch about four miles from here. It was morning. I guess my drink was drugged. The man, whoever he was, took everything I had on me except my watch. He didn't get it because it was in the little fob pocket of my trousers. I had a vest on."

"Where was this 'speak,' Boyle?"

"It was Corbett's," said Boyle after a momentary hesitation.

"Did anybody in Corbett's know this bird, Boyle?"

"I don't know; he was a stranger to me."

Brasher lifted the receiver from the hook. After an interval the connection was made. Boyle watched him anxiously while he was asking the unseen person at the other end of the wire some questions. Brasher hung up the receiver. He turned to Boyle:

"Yeah, they say you was there and left with a stranger about eight o'clock that night. They never saw this bird before. What business was you talkin' to him about, Boyle?"

"Oh, just some private business."

"Oh, private business, huh. You walk away with--by the way, Boyle, what business are you in now?"

There was a long pause. Then Boyle answered in a low voice, all his jauntiness and a.s.surance gone.

"I do a little bootlegging."

"Willing to admit it now, huh. Bootlegging is easier than murder ain't it, Boyle? And where was you goin' when you was picked up?"

"I was leaving the state. What the h.e.l.l could I do. This bird cleaned me out. I had my roll on me when I was with him."

"Yeah. You, Boyle, an old-timer, falls in with a stranger in a speakeasy and goes with him at night in his car to listen to a business proposition. And the next thing you know it's mornin' an'

you're sleepin' in a ditch. Well, Boyle, we'll make it all legal now. I charge you with murderin' Morris Miller on the night of July 3rd. I warn you now that everythin' you say may be used against you."

As he was about to be led out of the room, Professor Brierly asked a question.

"Mr. Boyle, the watch you spoke of. What kind of watch is it, a wrist watch or a pocket watch?"

The prisoner looked at him a long time, then he burst out.

"What the h.e.l.l is this? What's the watch got to do with--"

"Do you care to answer the question, Mr. Boyle?" asked the old scientist.

There was something in Professor Brierly's demeanor that made the prisoner change his mind and his manner. He answered politely:

"A pocket watch, sir."

"How long have you had the watch?"

The prisoner reflected the surprise of the other men but answered promptly: "I've had it about eighteen years."

"Thank you Mr. Boyle. May I see the watch please--oh, I beg your pardon. I forgot."

When the prisoner was led out, Professor Brierly asked Brasher to show him the watch. When it was brought, a thin, gold, open face watch, Professor Brierly asked:

"How can we determine if he is telling the truth about the length of time he had the watch?"

McCall asked Brasher:

"How long ago was this Yonkers job, Brasher?"

"'Bout three years ago."

McCall turned to the Professor.

"They may have a record in the police station, where he was booked on that Yonkers affair of the stuff he had with him. If they have a record and description of this watch we will know that he has had it this length of time anyway. Will that help, Professor?"

"Why, yes. That may be very helpful."

The New York District Attorney made the call. When his connection with the proper source of information was finally complete he held out his hand mutely for the watch. He described it in detail including a monogram on the case. When he hung up the receiver he nodded.

"Yes, this watch was among the effects found on his person when he was arrested. A careful record was kept of it because at the time it was suspected that the watch had been stolen."

Brasher had impatiently waited for this, to him unimportant and irrelevant matter to be disposed of. Now he burst out.

"Well, Professor, we got him didn't we. That sure was a swell tip of yours."

Professor Brierly did not appear to be listening. When Brasher repeated the question he shook his head absently.

"What? Oh, yes, yes. If you mean that we have the murderer of Mr.

Miller, Mr. Brasher, I am not at all certain that you are right.

Would you mind asking this Boyle when he had this watch cleaned last?"

Brasher looked at him in undisguised surprise. Professor Brierly was oblivious to this. He was peering intently at the watch.