clasping it to her bosom like a long-lost child. This was enough for
Durden, who gave the instrument back to Flechter and caused his arrest
as he was passing out of the front gate. The insulted dealer stormed and
raged, but the Car of Juggernaut had started upon its course, and that
night Flechter was lodged in the city prison. Next morning he was
brought before Magistrate Flammer in the Jefferson Market Police Court
and the violin was taken out of its case, which the police had sealed.
At this, the first hearing in this extraordinary case, Mrs. Bott, of
course, identified the violin positively as "The Duke of Cambridge," and
several other persons testified that, in substance, it was Bott's
celebrated violin. But for the defendant a number of violin makers swore
that it was not the Bott violin at all, and more--that it was not even a
Stradivarius. One of them, John J. Eller, to whom it will be necessary
to revert later, made oath that the violin was _his_, stolen from him
and brought to Flechter by the thief. On this testimony the magistrate
naturally decided that the identity of the instrument had not been
established and ordered that Flechter be discharged and the violin
returned to him.

Ordinarily that would have been the end of the case, but Allen had his
own private views as to the guilt of the dealer and on August 28th the
Grand Jury filed an indictment against Flechter accusing him of
feloniously receiving stolen property--the violin--knowing it to have
been stolen. Great was Flechter's anger and chagrin, but he promptly
gave bail and employed the ablest counsel he could afford.

Now began the second act of this tragedy of errors. The case was called
for trial with the People's interests in the hands of James W. Osborne,
just advancing into the limelight as a resourceful and relentless
prosecutor. I say the _People's_ case but perhaps _Allen's_ case would
be a more fitting title. For the defense Arthur W. Palmer held the fort,
directing his fire upon Osborne and losing no advantage inadvertently
given him. The noise of the conflict filled the court house and drowned
the uproar on Broadway. Nightly and each morning the daily press gave
columns to the proceedings. Every time the judge coughed the important
fact was given due prominence. And every gibe of counsel carried behind
it its insignia of recognition--"[_Laughter_]" It was one of those first
great battles in which the professional value of compressed air as