"Your name?"

"James Trueman Harwell."

"Your business?"

"I have occupied the position of private secretary and amanuensis to Mr.
Leavenworth for the past eight months."

"You are the person who last saw Mr. Leavenworth alive, are you not?"

The young man raised his head with a haughty gesture which well-nigh
transfigured it.

"Certainly not, as I am not the man who killed him."

This answer, which seemed to introduce something akin to levity or
badinage into an examination the seriousness of which we were all
beginning to realize, produced an immediate revulsion of feeling toward
the man who, in face of facts revealed and to be revealed, could so
lightly make use of it. A hum of disapproval swept through the room, and
in that one remark, James Harwell lost all that he had previously won
by the self-possession of his bearing and the unflinching regard of his
eye. He seemed himself to realize this, for he lifted his head still
higher, though his general aspect remained unchanged.

"I mean," the coroner exclaimed, evidently nettled that the young man
had been able to draw such a conclusion from his words, "that you were
the last one to see him previous to his assassination by some unknown
individual?"

The secretary folded his arms, whether to hide a certain tremble which
had seized him, or by that simple action to gain time for a moment's
further thought, I could not then determine. "Sir," he replied at
length, "I cannot answer yes or no to that question. In all probability
I was the last to see him in good health and spirits, but in a house as
large as this I cannot be sure of even so simple a fact as that." Then,
observing the unsatisfied look on the faces around, added slowly, "It is
my business to see him late."

"Your business? Oh, as his secretary, I suppose?"

He gravely nodded.

"Mr. Harwell," the coroner went on, "the office of private secretary
in this country is not a common one. Will you explain to us what your
duties were in that capacity; in short, what use Mr. Leavenworth had for
such an assistant and how he employed you?"

"Certainly. Mr. Leavenworth was, as you perhaps know, a man of great
wealth. Connected with various societies, clubs, institutions, etc.,
besides being known far and near as a giving man, he was accustomed
every day of his life to receive numerous letters, begging and
otherwise, which it was my business to open and answer, his private
correspondence always bearing a