“With the utmost ease, sir, as you would soon discover were you to study the subject with the aid of a powerful microscope. The ink flows very differently from a gold and from a steel pen. My examination has proved to me that Mr. Winchester was not guilty of any of the changes referred to—his figures all being very decided, especially in their angles, while the work of the real culprit, although very cleverly done, shows a certain individuality of roundness about the angles that appears nowhere in Mr. Winchester’s figures. Your honor will observe by the aid of this powerful glass the peculiarities of which I have spoken,” Mr. Plum concluded, as he passed a small case up to the judge, who, after making a careful examination of certain figures, pointed out to him, gravely observed:
“I do so observe; it is evident that the changes were not made by the prisoner.”
Gerald’s face lighted with pleasure at this remark, but his joy was short-lived, for the matter of the doctored accounts was dropped then and the charge of theft taken up.
There followed a long, sharp contest, during which his counsel fought nobly every inch of ground for him; but the burden of proof was all against him, and when the case was finally summed up the outlook was certainly very discouraging.
The judge had been strongly attracted toward Gerald by his frank, honest face, his manly bearing, and his straightforward story; but he was reluctantly compelled to admit that the evidence was decidedly against the prisoner, and he rose to address the jury and summarize the testimony, but before he could utter a word the door of the court-room was thrown open, and a slender, black-robed figure darted inside, and walked, with a quick, firm tread directly toward him.
The intruder was Allison Brewster.