tly respectful, he showed by every means
possible the pain he felt in adding one feather-weight to the evidence
against a man with whom he was on terms of more or less intimacy.

But let me give his testimony. Having acknowledged that he knew the Van
Burnam family well, and Howard in particular, he went on to state that
on the night of the seventeenth he had been detained at his office by
business of a more than usual pressing nature, and finding that he could
expect no rest for that night, humored himself by getting off the cars
at Twenty-first Street instead of proceeding on to Thirty-third Street,
where his apartments were.

The smile which these words caused (Miss Althorpe lives in Twenty-first
Street) woke no corresponding light on his face. Indeed, he frowned at
it, as if he felt that the gravity of the situation admitted of nothing
frivolous or humorsome. And this feeling was shared by Howard, for he
started when the witness mentioned Twenty-first Street, and cast him a
haggard look of dismay which happily no one saw but myself, for every
one else was concerned with the witness. Or should I except Mr. Gryce?

"I had of course no intentions beyond a short stroll through this street
previous to returning to my home," continued the witness, gravely; "and
am sorry to be obliged to mention this freak of mine, but find it
necessary in order to account for my presence there at so unusual an
hour."

"You need make no apologies," returned the Coroner. "Will you state on
what line of cars you came from your office?"

"I came up Third Avenue."

"Ah! and walked towards Broadway?"

"Yes."

"So that you necessarily passed very near the Van Burnam mansion?"

"Yes."

"At what time was this, can you say?"

"At four, or nearly four. It was half-past three when I left my office."

"Was it light at that hour? Could you distinguish objects readily?"

"I had no difficulty in seeing."

"And what did you see? Anything amiss at the Van Burnam mansion?"

"No, sir, nothing amiss. I merely saw Howard Van Burnam coming down the
stoop as I went by the corner."

"You made no mistake. It was the gentleman you name, and no other whom
you saw on this stoop at this hour?"

"I am very sure that it was he. I am sorry----"

But the Coroner gave him no opportunity to finish.

"You and Mr. Van Burnam are friends, you say, and it was light enough
for you to recognize each other; then you probably spoke?"

"No, we did not. I was