tters and figures upon
the number-plate. It was his duty to satisfy the Court that they were
mistaken....

As he sat down, I realized that it was not going to be a walk-over.

Mr. Douglas Bladder made a masterly witness. I have rarely seen a more
accomplished liar. His regret was infinite. With horrified hands he
deplored what he referred to as "the shocking affair." He thundered
unsought denunciation of "the dastardly conduct of some fugitive cur."
As a motorist, he "so well understood our feelings." But--at length and
with a wealth of detail he described how he and his chauffeur had spent
the twenty-second of May. With the exception of an hour for lunch, they
had worked on the car in the garage from ten o'clock until five. "It
seemed a shame," concluded the witness, "to waste such a beautiful day,
but I had earmarked the twenty-second for the job, so we went through
with it."

A most dangerous thing in the hands of any witness, detail is seldom
employed by the dishonest. It is not difficult safely to embroider a
lie, but it apparently requires more thought, patience, and rehearsal
than ninety-nine rogues out of a hundred are prepared to spend. It soon
became unpleasantly clear that Mr. Bladder was the hundredth knave, and
that in return for his labour he had a story to tell which was as
excellent an imitation of the truth as you might reasonably expect to
hear in six whole months of Sundays.

I began to feel extremely uneasy.

To make matters worse, he came through his cross-examination untouched.
For every question put to him he had a good natural answer, and, when he
stepped down from the box and the Court rose at five-and-twenty minutes
past one, it was with something of a shock that I found myself wondering
whether by any possible chance a mistake had been made, and we were
pursuing an innocent man.

Berry had engaged a table at the _Savoy_, and he and the others left
immediately, for there was little time.

I stayed for a moment to speak with our advisers.

"It's no use disguising the fact," said counsel in a low tone, "that we
are up against it. I believe that fellow to be a prize liar. He's too
infernally suave. But he knows his job inside out, and he's shaken our
case badly. I can't speak for the Judge, but he's impressed the jury,
and you can't get away from it. If his chauffeur comes up to the
scratch, I believe they'll stop the case." I groaned, and he touched me
on the shoulder. "You go and get y