Mr. Singleton stepped into the witness-box, and, laying his notes on the ledge, faced the judge.
"Have you examined the paper that was handed to you?" asked Sir Hector Trumpler.
"I have."
"What did you see on the paper?"
"I saw twenty thumb-prints, of which some were evident forgeries, some were evidently genuine, and some were doubtful."
"Taking the thumb-prints seriatim, what have you noted about them?"
Mr. Singleton examined his notes and replied—"The thumb-print on square one is evidently a forgery, as is also number two, though it is a passable imitation. Three and four are genuine; five is an obvious forgery. Six is a genuine thumb-print; seven is a forgery, though a good one; eight is genuine; nine is, I think, a forgery, though it is a remarkably good imitation. Ten and eleven are genuine thumb-marks; twelve and thirteen are forgeries; but as to fourteen I am very doubtful, though I am inclined to regard it as a forgery. Fifteen is genuine, and I think sixteen is also; but I will not swear to it. Seventeen is certainly genuine. Eighteen and nineteen I am rather doubtful about, but I am disposed to consider them both forgeries. Twenty is certainly a genuine thumb-print."
As Mr. Singleton's evidence proceeded, a look of surprise began to make its appearance on the judge's face, while the jury glanced from the witness to the notes before them and from their notes to one another in undisguised astonishment.
As to Sir Hector Trumpler, that luminary of British jurisprudence was evidently completely fogged; for, as statement followed statement, he pursed up his lips and his broad, red face became overshadowed by an expression of utter bewilderment.
For a few seconds he stared blankly at his witness and then dropped on to his seat with a thump that shook the court.