the five minutes after the shot had sounded. He
and a policeman had sought entrance to the building, which presumably
harboured the assassin--and mountain men had halted him at the door,
under the leadership of one to whom the rest deferred. He described that
commander with fulness of detail, and it was as if he were painting in
words a portrait of the man in the prisoner's dock.

"I was there as a volunteer--to see that no one who might be guilty
escaped from the building," testified the witness with convincing
candour. "I noticed one man in particular--because he seemed to be the
unofficial leader of the rest. Some one called him Asa."

The man's voice was responsibly, almost hesitantly, grave, and on the
faces in the jury box one could read the telling impression of his
words.

Then the bearded attorney, whose fame was secure as a heckler of
witnesses, rose dramatically from his chair.

"Do you see that man in the courtroom now?"

For a matter of seconds testifier and prisoner gazed with level
directness into each other's eyes, while over the crowded courtroom hung
a tense pall of stillness.

Then the witness spoke in a tone of bewilderment--his words coming
slowly--as though they surprised himself.

"No. I don't think I see him here."

The poised figure of the lawyer, drawn statuesquely upright, winced as
painfully as though a trusted hand had smitten him, and in his abrupt
change of expression was betrayal of dismay and chagrin.

"You say--you can't--identify him!" he echoed incredulously.

Stubbornly the man who was testifying shook his head.

"May I explain in my own way?" he inquired, and as the lawyer barked
raspingly back at him, the Court intervened:

"This is your own witness--You must understand the impropriety of
attempting to force him."

"While I was looking at the defendant there, just now," went on the man
in the chair, "I was seeing only his side face, and I was positive that
he was the person I was describing. Feature for feature and line for
line ... the likeness seemed exact. I was willing to swear to it.... But
when he turned and faced me ... I saw something else ... and now I don't
think he _is_ the man."

The words came in a puzzled and dumfounded confession, and the witness
paused, then went resolutely on again: "This man has a fine pair of
clear and well-matched eyes, when one sees them both at once.... That
one at the door had something ... I can't say just what it was ... th