"The man arrested for that murder, perpetrated at or about midnight, as is supposed, is the one you found in the road suffering from the consequences of a severe fall, and whom you helped to leave Long Island, in a disabled condition, nearly two hours earlier that night than Mr. Van Deust was killed."
"Ah! If I did not know of what the police are capable, I should be surprised at it."
"You know he is innocent, sir; and I know it, and Ruth, and Mary, his sweetheart; we all know it. But they would hang him if we couldn't prove it."
The reaction from his long sustained anxiety, the present excitement and his joyful emotion over finding the man upon whom he looked as Dorn's saviour, so affected the poor fellow that he cried like a schoolboy.
"Yes," assented Mr. Holden reflectively, "that is practically what the law seems to require sometimes—and it is hardly ever an easy thing to do. But, come, my good fellow! Leave that crying for the girls you mentioned and give me all the facts you possess bearing on the case."
"I—I—can't help it, sir. Don't mind me—I'll be over it directly. I know it's weak, and foolish,—but I've been worked up so, fearing I wouldn't find you in time."
In a few minutes Lem recovered his self-control, and then it took but a very short time for the skilful lawyer to elicit every detail of the progress of Dorn's case. Lem was surprised at seeing him smile when the discovery of the handkerchief, the strongest point against the accused, as it was deemed, was mentioned, but did not dare to ask him why he did so. When the narration was concluded, Mr. Holden asked:
"When is his trial to come off?"
"On Tuesday next, sir."
"Tuesday next. H'm. Prosecution will take up first day; defence not be reached before Wednesday—and this is Thursday—leaves me four days to get through what I have on hand. Oh, Mr. Anderson!"