“When and where?” inquired Dr. Brayton, turning to the Hillbury captain.
“On July fourth of last year, in Ralston, Indiana,” replied McGee, promptly.
“What is your source of information?”
“The advertisements. Mr. Harkins, will you kindly pass the poster to Dr. Brayton?”
It was a large-lettered notice, such as one frequently sees displayed in shop windows, announcing among other attractions a race for a prize of fifteen dollars, in which Smith, Doyle, Jackson, and “J. W. Dickinson, who holds many school and college records,” would compete.
The fateful poster passed from hand to hand about the table. Dick awaited his turn with curiosity, yet with a heavy sinking of the heart. Was it possible that this miserable sheet of coarse paper should have power to work so much harm?
“What answer does Dickinson make?” said Dr. Brayton, at length, turning to Melvin.
“He denies that he has ever run in any race in his life except in the Seaton and Hillbury contests,” answered Melvin, speaking with a little tremor in his voice, but yet composedly and coolly. “The advertisement was made without his consent or knowledge.”
“While it may seem invidious to question the sufficiency of a man’s word,” said Mr. Harkins, with a bland smile, “I think you gentlemen will all agree with me that we should be false to our duty if we accepted Mr. Dickinson’s unsupported denial as a conclusive answer to the protest.”
“Of course,” replied Dr. Brayton, promptly. “The only question is where the burden of proof lies.”