"But his clothes were not wet, and he was still in the window when they reached Galesburg."
"I do not mean," said Moran, "that he was drowned in the engine-tank, but in the cab window—in the air."
"That sounds absurd."
"Try it," said the prisoner. "Get aboard of Blackwings, strike the summit at Zero Hill with her lever hooked back and her throttle wide open, let a strong man hold your head out at the window, and if she hangs to the rail your successor will have the rare opportunity of writing you up."
"Do you mean that seriously?"
"I do. If what you tell me is true, there can be no shade of doubt as to the cause of Cowels's death."
"I believe," said the reporter, "that you predicted his death, or that the train would go in the ditch, did you not?"
"No."
"I was not present at the examination, but it occurs to me that the man who claimed to be a detective, and who made the arrest, swore that you had made such a prediction."
"Perhaps," said Moran. "The truth is when that fellow was giving his testimony I was ignorant of Cowels's death, upon whose evidence I hoped to prove that the fellow was lying wilfully, or that he had misunderstood me, and later, I was so shocked and surprised at the news of my old fireman's death that I forgot to make the proper explanation to the magistrate."