Who dares
To say that he alone has found the truth.
—Longfellow.
THE next morning Mr. Ferris was startled by the appearance in his office of Mr. Byrd, looking wretchedly anxious and ill.
"I have come," said the detective, "to ask you what you think of Mr. Hildreth's prospects. Have you made up your mind to have him arrested for this crime?"
"Yes," was the reply. "The evidence against him is purely circumstantial, but it is very strong; and if no fresh developments occur, I think there can be no doubt about my duty. Each and every fact that comes to light only strengthens the case against him. When he came to be examined last night, a ring was found on his person, which he acknowledged to having worn on the day of the murder."
"He took it off during the inquest," murmured Mr. Byrd; "I saw him."
"It is said by Hickory—the somewhat questionable cognomen of your fellow-detective from New York—that the young man manifested the most intense uneasiness during the whole inquiry. That in fact his attention was first drawn to him by the many tokens which he gave of suppressed agitation and alarm. Indeed, Mr. Hickory at one time thought he should be obliged to speak to this stranger in order to prevent a scene. Once Mr. Hildreth got up as if to go, and, indeed, if he had been less hemmed in by the crowd, there is every reason to believe he would have attempted an escape."
"Is this Hickory a man of good judgment?" inquired Mr. Byrd, anxiously.
"Why, yes, I should say so. He seems to understand his business. The way he procured us the testimony of Mr. Hildreth was certainly satisfactory."
"I wish that, without his knowing it, I could hear him give his opinion of this matter," intimated the other.