Now, gentlemen, the reason Munn gave was that the men there would notice it and make a disturbance about it.

Well, then, why not pay the men? What is the use of paying Munn? If this was done to prevent the men working at the rectifying-house from making trouble, why not pay the men? Why not pay the men who were going to make the trouble? Why give an extra thousand dollars to a conspirator to whom you had already given twenty thousand dollars, and who, at that time, according to the testimony of Rehm, was officially rotten? Why not give the money to men who were going to make the trouble? And the next question is this—and if you will recollect the testimony of Roelle, he swears that when the defendant came to the rectifying-house, he (Roelle) was alone. He swears that he was alone. He swears that all the rest had gone to dinner, and according to Roelle's testimony there was nobody there but himself. Where were the men that were going to make this disturbance? Where were the men that were going to notice this oversight? Where were the men that were going to stir up difficulties at Washington or any other place? According to the testimony of Roelle those people were at dinner, and where, gentlemen, is the philosophy of that lie which they have told? Where is it? Why should he have paid Munn money? Why didn't he pay it to Bridges? If it was for the purpose of stopping the men from making trouble, why not pay it to the men they wished to stop? I ask the gentlemen to answer that question. I ask the gentlemen to tell us what men were in danger of making this trouble? Was it the gauger who received six hundred dollars a month for being a liar and a thief? Was it the book-keeper who, every report that he made, swore to a lie? Was there any danger of these liars and of these thieves making a fuss on their own account? Was there any danger of that gauger stopping his own pay? Was there any danger of that book-keeper trying to throw himself out of employment? Was there any danger of any thief or of any conspirator saying anything calculated to bring this rascality to the surface? If a bribed gauger would not tell it; if a bribed book-keeper would not tell it, I ask the Attorney-General for the Government, would Munn tell it, who had received, according to your evidence, over twenty thousand dollars of fraudulent money? Was there any danger of Munn turning state's evidence against himself? Was there not just as much danger of Bridges making a fuss as Munn? Was there not, according to their testimony, the same danger of Rehm himself going to Washington as there would be of a bribed gauger, and of a lying book-keeper? Gentlemen, your story won't hang together. There is no philosophy in it, and it will not fit anything except another lie made on purpose to fit it; and it has got to be made by a better mechanic than Jacob Rehm.

Now, then, gentlemen, what more? The district attorney told you, and I was astonished when he told it—I was astonished—he said that the testimony of Jacob Rehm was not impeached; that, on the contrary, it was sustained by these other witnesses. Had he made such a statement under oath I am afraid an indictment for perjury would lie. He said that the testimony had been sustained rather than impeached. How sustained?

"Mr. Rehm, did you ever give Mr. Burroughs notice that Mr. Munn was coming in order that he might put his house in order?"

Mr. Rehm says, "No."

We then asked Mr. Burroughs, "Did Mr. Rehm ever give you such notice?" and he corroborates Mr. Rehm by saying "Yes," if that is what you call corroboration.

"Did you tell Mr. Hesing that Munn was not in it?" "I did not." "Mr. Hesing, did Mr. Rehm tell you that Munn was not in it." "He did."

That is another instance of the attorney's idea of corroboration.

"Did you tell Hesing that Hoyt was innocent?" "I did not." "Mr. Hesing, did Mr. Rehm tell you that Hoyt was innocent?" "He did."

Another corroboration.