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"They are of the same shade. Shall I pass them down to the jury?" Howard bowed. You would have thought he was in a drawing-room, and in the act of bestowing a favor. But his brother Franklin showed a very different countenance, and as for their father, one could not even see his face, he so persistently held up his hand before it. The jury, wide-awake now, passed the locket along, with many sly nods and a few whispered words. When it came back to the Coroner, he took it and handed it to Mr. Van Burnam, saying: "I wish you would observe the similarity for yourself. I can hardly detect any difference between them." "Thank you! I am willing to take your word for it," replied the young man, with most astonishing _aplomb_. And Coroner and jury for a moment looked baffled, and even Mr. Gryce, of whose face I caught a passing glimpse at this instant, stared at the head of his cane, as if it were of thicker wood than he expected and had more knotty points on it than even his accustomed hand liked to encounter. Another effort was not out of place, however; and the Coroner, summoning up some of the pompous severity he found useful at times, asked the witness if his attention had been drawn to the dead woman's hands. He acknowledged that it had. "The physician who made the autopsy urged me to look at them, and I did; they were certainly very like my wife's." "Only like." "I cannot say that they were my wife's. Do you wish me to perjure myself?" "A man should know his wife's hands as well as he knows her face." "Very likely." "And you are ready to swear these were not the hands of your wife?" "I am ready to swear I did not so consider them." "And that is all?" "That is all." The Coroner frowned and cast a glance at the jury. They needed prodding now and then, and this is the way he prodded them. As soon as they gave signs of recognizing the hint he gave them, he turned back, and renewed his examination in these words: "Mr. Van Burnam, did your brother at your request hand you the keys of your father's house on the morning of the day on which this tragedy occurred?" "He did." "Have you those keys now?" "I have not." "What have you done with them? Did you return them to your brother?" "No; I see where your inquiries are tending, and I do not suppose you will believe my simple word; but I lost the keys on the day I received them; that is why----" "Well, you may continue, Mr. Van Bur
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