ith insanity), and appeared to desist.
I sent the college porter for a ladder, and he succeeded in detaching
the Warden from his painful position. Smith was sent down.
The photograph I enclose is from the group of the University Rifle Club
prizemen, and represents him as he was when at the College.--
Hi am, your obedient servant, Amos Boulter.

"The other letter," continued Gould in a glow of triumph, "is from the porter,
and won't take long to read.

"Dear Sir,--It is quite true that I am the porter of Brikespeare College,
and that I 'elped the Warden down when the young man was shooting at him,
as Mr. Boulter has said in his letter. The young man who was shooting at
him was Mr. Smith, the same that is in the photograph Mr. Boulter sends.--
Yours respectfully, Samuel Barker."

Gould handed the two letters across to Moon, who examined them.
But for the vocal divergences in the matter of h's and a's,
the Sub-Warden's letter was exactly as Gould had rendered it;
and both that and the porter's letter were plainly genuine.
Moon handed them to Inglewood, who handed them back in silence
to Moses Gould.

"So far as this first charge of continual attempted murder is concerned,"
said Dr. Pym, standing up for the last time, "that is my case."

Michael Moon rose for the defence with an air of depression which gave
little hope at the outset to the sympathizers with the prisoner.
He did not, he said, propose to follow the doctor into the
abstract questions. "I do not know enough to be an agnostic,"
he said, rather wearily, "and I can only master the known and admitted
elements in such controversies. As for science and religion,
the known and admitted facts are plain enough. All that the parsons
say is unproved. All that the doctors say is disproved.
That's the only difference between science and religion there's ever been,
or will be. Yet these new discoveries touch me, somehow," he said,
looking down sorrowfully at his boots. "They remind me of a dear
old great-aunt of mine who used to enjoy them in her youth.
It brings tears to my eyes. I can see the old bucket by the garden
fence and the line of shimmering poplars behind--"

"Hi! here, stop the 'bus a bit," cried Mr. Moses Gould, rising in a sort
of perspiration. "We want to give the defence a fair run--like gents,
you know; but any gent would draw the line at shimmering poplars."

"Well, hang it all," said Moon, in an injured manner, "if Dr. Pym
may have