CHAPTER VIII.
THE BENEFICENCE OF FIRE BELLS.
The door opened, and the tall form of the police lieutenant appeared, attended by two patrolmen. The patrolmen, on entering, looked directly at the prisoner, and seemed to recognize him. The police lieutenant appeared to be pleased with his success in finding the witnesses, after a hunt through several station houses; but he was not aware what importance the testimony which they could give had suddenly acquired. The witnesses had been searched for at the suggestion of Fayette Overtop, with the vague hope of making them useful in some way.
The coroner scowled at the witnesses, for he feared that they would prove the man innocent, who, in his opinion, was the murderer. Having adopted this theory at the outset, and staked the whole issue upon it, he felt a natural reluctance to give it up.
The lieutenant explained to the coroner that the two officers could probably throw some light on the prisoner's movements, the night of the murder.
The coroner administered the oath to both of them, as follows:
"Holeup your ri't'an'. You swear to tell truth, th'ole truth, nothin' but truth, s'elpyeGod. Kiss the book."
The men complied with these impressive formalities, and the coroner then proceeded to interrogate one of them--a strapping fellow with an intensely Irish face.
"Name?" said the coroner.
"Patrick O'Dougherty, yer Honor."