"And what is the color of that piece?" I asked.
"Why, dark red. I've stated that already."
I glanced triumphantly at the coroner.
"Your honor," I said, as calmly as I could, "I think we've found the flaw in the chain. Mr. Rogers is evidently color-blind. As you see, the piece he has selected is a dark green."
The whole audience seemed to draw a deep breath, and a little clatter of applause ran around the room. I could hear the scratch, scratch of the reporters' pencils—here was a situation after their hearts' desire! Mr. Royce had me by the hand, and was whispering brokenly in my ear.
"My dear fellow; you're the best of us all; I'll never forget it!"
But Rogers was staring in amazement from me to the cloth in his hand, and back again.
"Green!" he stammered. "Color-blind! Why, that's nonsense! I've never suspected it!"
"That's probable enough," I assented. "The failing is no doubt a recent one. Most color-blind persons don't know it until their sight is tested. Of course, we shall have an oculist examine you; but I think this evidence is pretty conclusive."
Coroner Goldberg nodded, and the district attorney settled back in his chair.