"Confine yourself strictly to answering the questions put to you. Should you say it was in Mr. Samuel Boyd's handwriting?"
Dick examined the letter with great care. He had in his pocket at that very moment proof positive in the shape of the incriminating document written by Samuel Boyd only a few hours before he was murdered, the production of which would have caused Reginald's instant arrest. The writing on the letter was like it, and he would have given much to be able to compare them. After a long pause he said, "It looks like his writing, but I am not an expert in caligraphy."
The Coroner made a gesture as if he had exhausted his questions, and Dick was about to step back, when the Juror interposed.
The Juror: "Have you found a pistol of any kind in the house?"
"Now, who is prompting you?" thought Dick, as he confronted the Juror, a sallow-faced, pock-marked man, with an aggressive voice. "No," he answered aloud, "I found no pistol."
The Juror: "The detective officer who has been examined spoke of a recently fired bullet which he extracted from the wall of the office. How is it that in your evidence on Monday you said nothing of this bullet?"
Dick: "In the first place, because I was not asked. In the second place, because on Monday nothing was known about it."
There was a titter in Court at this, and the juror flushed up and was silent.
The Coroner: "When was the bullet found?"
Dick: "Yesterday."