"Excuse me, your honor," he bowed, "I would like to speak to my client before he answers that question."
But Kittredge waved him aside. "What's the use," he said. "That is my pistol; I know it; there's no doubt about it."
"Ah!" exclaimed Hauteville. "It is also the pistol that killed Martinez. It was thrown from private room Number Seven at the Ansonia. A woman saw it thrown, and it was picked up in a neighboring courtyard. One ball was missing, and that ball was found in the body."
"There's some mistake," objected Pleindeaux with professional asperity, at the same time flashing a wrathful look at Lloyd that said plainly: "You see what you have done!"
"Now," continued the judge, "you say you have never been in the alleyway that we showed you at the Ansonia. Look at these boots. Do you recognize them?"
Kittredge examined the boots carefully and then said frankly to the judge: "I thank they are mine."
"You wore them to the Ansonia on the night of the crime?"
"I think so."
"Aren't you sure?"
"Not absolutely sure, because I have three pairs exactly alike. I always keep three pairs going at the same time; they last longer that way."