ed. Some one referred to it and
immediately all else lost interest. The witnesses and their evidence;
the bearing of the prisoner; the division of the jury, and the arguments
of counsel, were each discussed in turn; till finally Davis, in his
irreverent way, inquired of Littell if he flattered himself the jury had
believed the fairy tale he had told them.

"So you think it was a fairy tale I told the jury, do you, Ned?" Littell
said. "Well, it may have been, but I have known truth as strange."

"Do you mean to say," Van Bult inquired, "that you believe the statement
you made to the jury to be the true explanation of the murder?"

"I do," Littell answered.

"But if that were so, it might put the crime upon some man we know," Van
Bult continued, "possibly even a friend and you cannot think that?"

"Why not?" Littell asked; "it would not be the first time a man of
intelligence and social prominence had done such a thing. You can never
tell what a man is capable of till he has been tried. Very few men, I
admit you," he went on, "commit great crimes, but that is not always
because they are too good for it; it is sometimes only because the fatal
occasion does not arise for them and sometimes because the men
themselves are not equal to the occasion. The man who has once committed
a murder," he continued, reflectively, while we all listened intently,
"is no worse in nature, necessarily, after than before the deed, and no
more dangerous to society, that is if he is a man of intelligence;
because he has done it once is no reason that he will do it again, any
more than the fact that he has never done it is an assurance that he
never will. There are worse offences than murder, too; a man may kill
another man, and yet not cheat at cards or talk about a woman." He
paused, but no one said anything and he went on in the same
dispassionate tone: "There are men of wealth and position in this city,
men respected and sought after, not a few, who would kill if the
occasion were great enough; it is only a matter of measure with them;
and it is among such men you must look for Arthur White's murderer."

When he concluded there was an expression of horror upon Davis's face
and I was repelled even while fascinated by this cold-blooded analysis
of my fellow-men's nature and motives, but I recognized there was a
degree of truth in it, nevertheless.

It was Van Bult who continued the conversation.

"I do not agree with you," he said, "and