Detective Dearborn, had not been idle since his return; and all the witnesses that the prosecution required were present.

His first witness was Geoffrey Hampstead. His evidence was looked upon by the spectators as uninteresting, and merely for the sake of form.

Everybody knew what he had to say. He merely explained how the packet of fifty bills belonging to the Victoria Bank had been put in a certain place on the desk in his box at the bank, and that, he said, was all he knew about it.

At this point, Jack leaned over the bar and said; with a stupid pleasure in his face:

"Morry, there's old Geoffrey. I can see him. What's he talking about?

Say, if you get a chance, tell him I am awfully glad to see him again."

Rankin now became convinced that there was something the matter with Jack's head, and he resolved to speak to the court to obtain a postponement of the case when the present witness had given his evidence.

It was also drawn from Geoffrey, by the county attorney, that the prisoner alone had had access to the place where the money lay, that it could not have been reached from the public hall-way, and that the prisoner had gone out very soon after he had spoken to the witness--when the money lay within his reach.

The crown prosecutor said he would ask the witness nothing more at present, but would require him again.

Rankin then represented to the police magistrate that his client was too ill to give him any instructions in the matter. The defendant was a personal friend of his, and although willing to act for him, he was, as yet, completely in the dark as to any of the facts, and in view of this he deemed it only proper to request that the whole matter should be postponed until he should be properly able to judge for himself.

The magistrate then asked, with something of a twinkle in his eye.

"What do you think is the matter with your client, Mr. Rankin?"

"It is hard for me, not being a doctor, to say," answered Rankin, looking back thoughtfully toward Jack. "I think, however, that he is suffering from some affection of the brain."

A horse-laugh was heard from some one among the "unwashed," and the police strained their heads to see who made the noise. The old plea of insanity seemed to be coming up once again, and one man in the crowd was certainly amused.

The magistrate said: "I do not think there is any reason why I should not go on hearing the evidence, now. I will note your objection, Mr.

Rankin, and I perceive that you may be in a rather awkward position, perhaps, if you are in total ignorance of the facts."

Rankin was in a quandary. If he sat down and declined to cross-examine the witnesses or act for the defendant in any way, Jack might be convicted, and all chances for technical loopholes of escape might be lost forever. There might, however, in this case, if the trial were forced on, be a ground for some after proceedings on the claim that he did not get fair play. On the other hand, cross-examination might possibly break up the prosecution, if the evidence was weak or unsatisfactory. He came to the conclusion that he would go on and examine the witness and try to have it understood that he did so under protest.

After partly explaining to the magistrate what he wished to do, he asked Geoffrey a few questions--not seeing his way at all clearly, but just for the general purpose of fishing until he elicited something that he might use.

"You say that after the defendant spoke to you in the bank you heard him go out through the side door. Where does that side door lead?"

"It leads into an empty hall, and then you go out of an outer side door into the street."

"Is not this outer side door sometimes left open in hot weather?"

"Yes, I think it was open all that day."

"How are the part.i.tions between the stalls or boxes of the different clerks in the Victoria Bank constructed?"

"They are made rather high (about five feet six high) and they are built of wood--black walnut, I think."

"Then, if the door of your box was closed you could not see who came in or out of Mr. Cresswell's stall?"

"Only through the wicket between our boxes."

"How long after Mr. Cresswell went out did you notice that the money was gone?"

"I can't quite remember. I was going on with my work with my back to the money. It might have been from an hour to an hour and a half. I went out to the side door myself for an instant, to see what the weather was going to be in the afternoon. It was some time after I came back that I found that the money was gone."

"Then, as far as you are able to tell, somebody might have come into Mr.

Cresswell's stall after he went out, and taken the money without your knowing it?"

"Certainly. There was perhaps an hour and a half in which this could have been done."

"This package of money, as it lay, could have been seen from the public hall-way of the bank through your front wicket, could it not?"

"Yes."

"And it was perfectly possible for a person, after seeing the money in this way, to go around and come in the side door, enter Mr. Cresswell's box and take the money?"

"Yes, I have heard of as daring robberies as that."

"Or it would have been easy for any of the other bank officials to have taken the money?"

"If they had wished to do so--yes."

"And it would have been possible for you, when you went to the side door, to have handed the money to some one there ready to receive it?"

"Oh, yes," said Geoffrey, laughing; "I might have had a confederate outside. I could have given a confederate about two hundred thousand dollars that morning, I think."

"Thank you," said Rankin to Geoffrey, as he sat down.

Geoffrey saw what Rankin wanted, and he a.s.sisted him as far as he could to open up any other possibilities to account for the disappearance of the money.

The cabman who removed Jack's valises early in the morning was then called. He identified Jack as the person who had engaged him. Had been often engaged before by Mr. Cresswell. He also identified Jack's valises, which were produced.

Rankin did not cross-examine this man. His evidence was brought in to show that Jack's absconding was a carefully planned one--partly put into action before the stealing of the money--and not the result of any hasty impulse.

The caretaker of the yacht-club house was also called, for the same object. He told what he knew, and was restrained with difficulty from continually saying that he did not see anything suspicious about what he saw. The caretaker was evidently partial to the prisoner.

Detective Dearborn then took the stand, and as he proceeded in his story the interest grew intense. But when he mentioned meeting a young lady on the steamboat, and getting into a conversation with her, Rankin arose and said he had no doubt there were few ladies who could resist his friend Detective Dearborn, but that he did not see what she had to do with the case.

Then the county attorney jumped to his feet and contended that this evidence was admissible to show that this woman was going to the same place as the prisoner and had conspired with the prisoner to rob the bank.

Rankin replied that there was no charge against the prisoner for conspiracy, that the woman was not mentioned in the charge, and unless it were shown that she was in some way connected with the prisoner in the larceny evidence as to her conversations could not be received if not spoken in the prisoner's presence.

Rankin had no idea who this woman was or what she had said. He only choked off everything he could on general principles.

The magistrate refused to receive as evidence the conversation between her and the detective. So Rankin made his point, not knowing how valuable it was to his client.

Detective Dearborn was much chagrined at this. He thought that his story, as an interesting narrative of detective life, was quite spoiled by the omission, and he blurted out as a sort of "aside" to the spectators:

"Well, any way, she said she was Cresswell's wife."

This remark created a sensation in court, as he antic.i.p.ated. But the magistrate rebuked him very sharply for it, saying: "I would have you remember that the evidence of very zealous police officers is always sufficiently open to suspicion. Showing more zeal than the law allows to obtain a conviction does not improve your condition as a witness."