fragments."

"Don't waste your sympathy," retorted Coquenil.

Gibelin gave a little snort of defiance. "I certainly won't. I only mean
that your debut in this case hasn't been exactly--ha, ha!--well, not
exactly brilliant."

"Here, here!" reproved the judge. "Let us have the facts."

"Well," continued the red-haired man, "I have found the owner of the pistol
that killed Martinez."

Coquenil started. "The owner of the pistol we found in the courtyard?"

"Precisely. I should tell you, also, that the balls from that pistol are
identical with the ball extracted from the body. The autopsy proves it, so
Dr. Joubert says. And this pistol belongs in a leather holster that I
found in Mr. Kittredge's room. Dr. Joubert let me take the pistol for
verification and--there, you can see for yourselves."

With this he produced the holster and the pistol and laid them before the
judge. There was no doubt about it, the two objects belonged together.
Various worn places corresponded and the weapon fitted in its case.
"Besides," continued Gibelin, "the chambermaid identifies this pistol as
the property of the American. He always kept it in a certain drawer, she
noticed it there a few days ago, but yesterday it was gone and the holster
was empty."

"It looks bad," muttered the judge.

"It _looks_ bad, but it's too easy, it's too simple," answered M. Paul.

"In the old school," sneered Gibelin, "we are not always trying to solve
problems in _difficult_ ways. We don't reject a solution merely because
it's easy--if the truth lies straight before our nose, why, we see it."

"My dear sir," retorted Coquenil angrily, "if what you think the truth
turns out to be the truth, then you ought to be in charge of this case and
I'm a fool."

"Granted," smiled the other.

"Come, come, gentlemen," interrupted the judge. Then abruptly to Gibelin:
"Did you see about his boots?"

"No, I thought you would send to the prison and get the pair he wore last
night."

"How do you know he didn't change his boots when he burned the letters? Go
back to his hotel and see if they noticed a muddy pair in his room this
morning. Bring me whatever boots of his you find. Also stop at the depot
and get the pair he had on when arrested. Be quick!"

"I will," answered Gibelin, and he went out, pausing at the door to salute
M. Paul mockingly.

"Ill-tempered brute!" said Hauteville. "I will see that he has nothing more
to do with this case." Then he touched an e