arged with having deliberately shot in the head and killed
a respectable dealer in olive-oil against whom he held no grudge
whatsoever. The King was just an egotistic little man who liked
notoriety and admiration. He was wont to refer to himself simply
as "The Bravest Man," without reference to time or place--just "The
Bravest Man." He was accustomed to demonstrate his bravery by
shooting inoffensive people whenever the idea seized him. He never
killed anybody save quiet and law-abiding fellow citizens who made
no resistance, and the method he selected was to shoot them through
the head. He seemed to feel that it was essential to his dignity
thus to execute at least one human being every six months, and the
extraordinary feature of his history was that he had never been
convicted.

The case that I was called upon to defend was this: Not having
killed anybody for nearly a year and fearing to jeopardize his dual
title of King of Mulberry Street and The Bravest Man, he put a
forty-four calibre pistol in his pocket, donned his Sunday clothes
and took a walk. The thoroughfare was crowded, the day bright and
fair, the time twelve o'clock noon. Presently the oil merchant
approached and The King, first glancing about him to make sure that
he had a "gallery," went up to him, placed the pistol at his head
and fired. He was immediately arrested and indicted for murder.

Now, twenty witnesses had seen him fire the fatal shot. Yet there
was not the slightest reason in the world why he should have done
such a thing. Upon the trial my client insisted on simply denying
that he had done anything of the kind. I had naturally assumed
that he would either claim that the shooting had been accidental
or that he had fired in self-defense, after he had first been
attacked by the deceased. But no--he had had no pistol, did not
know the man, and had not killed him. Why should he have killed
him? he inquired. No one could answer the question, least of all
the jury. The twenty witnesses were positive that he had done so,
but he was equally positive that he had not. No one could offer
the slightest explanation of the deed--if it had in fact taken
place. The jury puzzled over the case for hours, at one time, I
am informed, being on the point of acquitting the prisoner for lack
of proof of any motive. They reasoned, with perfect logic, that
it was almost if not quite as improbable that the defendant should
in broad daylight on a