Who can fathom the mind of the prisoner or conceive the myriad of vexing thoughts with which his brain is teeming? He exhibits no fear—he displays no excitement—but calmly and quietly and with watchful eyes he gazes around upon the scene before him—a scene in which he is an important actor, and in which his fate is being determined.

Without the formality of an opening address, the State's attorney calls the first witness—Mrs. Waring. This lady details the occurrences of the afternoon and evening of the murder—the facts of which are already known to the reader. She also testified to the friendly relations existing between the murdered man and the prisoner, except upon one occasion, when, shortly before the death of Mr. Schulte, she had heard angry words in their apartments. No importance was attached to this, as the disagreement was of short duration, and their pleasant intercourse was speedily resumed.

The evidence of the two daughters and the son of Mrs. Waring was taken, but they simply confirmed the story as related by the mother. The various persons who were present at the finding of the body—the physicians who had made the post mortem examination, were examined as to their knowledge of the murder, and the circumstances incident thereto.

The officers who had charge of Bucholz testified to his extravagances during the time that intervened between the murder and the formal arrest of the prisoner, and to the fact of the money which he had expended bearing the peculiar marks which had been noticed upon it.

Frank Bruner had been found by my operatives, and he identified the watch that had been found as belonging to Henry Schulte. He also testified to the conversations which took place between himself and Bucholz before he had left the service of Mr. Schulte, and also that the old gentleman had called upon him on the morning of that fatal day, and had informed him of his intention to dispense with the services of Bucholz on the 15th day of the succeeding month, and requested Frank to again enter his service; which he had promised to consider before deciding finally upon.

The examination of these various witnesses had occupied two days, and nothing very serious or convincing, except of a circumstantial nature, had been proven. Bucholz appeared jubilant and hopeful—his counsel were sanguine of acquittal, and even the jurors looked less sternly as their eyes fell upon the prisoner.

The countenance of the State's attorney was an enigma to the lawyers for the defense. Confident and self-reliant, he had marshaled his array of witnesses, and their testimony was a consistent recital of the events relating to the murder and the various circumstances relating thereto. Nothing definite or convincing had as yet been proven, and the attorneys wondered at the undismayed demeanor of the prosecuting officer.

On the afternoon of the third day, after the examination of two unimportant witnesses, Mr. Olmstead arose, and, addressing the sheriff, said:

"Call Ernest Stark."

There was nothing unusual in the name, and but little attention was paid to the order thus given. The prisoner and the attorneys had never heard the name before, and no uneasiness was manifested upon their faces, but when, in answer to that call, Edward Sommers entered from the ante-room, and stepping upon the witness stand, confronted the court, a change came over the faces of the accused and his counsel, wonderful to behold.