of it a premature statement. The woman died on Sunday morning. The autopsy was held yesterday. I believe it will require a chemical analysis before it can be asserted that morphine is present. Am I not correct?" The Doctor made one of his non-committal replies.
"Let us suppose that at the trial, expert chemists swear that they found morphine in poisonous quantities."
"Even then, the burden of proof would be upon the prosecution. They must prove not merely that morphine was present in quantities sufficient to cause death, but that in this case it did actually kill. That is, they must show that Mabel Sloane died from poison, and not from diphtheria. That will be their great difficulty. We can have celebrated experts, as many as you can afford, and even though poison did produce the death, we can create such a doubt from the contradictions of the experts, that the jury would give you the verdict."
"Very satisfactorily reasoned. I am encouraged. Now then, the next point. The drives with the rich unknown."
"Oh! That is a newspaper's argument, and would have no place in a court of law, unless – "
"Yes! Unless – ?"
"Unless the prosecution tried to prove that the motive for the crime was to rid yourself of your fiancée in order to marry a richer woman. Of course we should fight against the admission of any such evidence as tending to prejudice the jury against you, and untenable because the proof would only be presumptive."
"Presumptive. That is as to my desire to marry the woman with whom I am said to have been out driving. Now then, suppose that it could be shown that, since the death of Mabel Sloane, and prior to the trial, I had actually married this rich woman?"
"I should say that such an act would damage your case very materially."
"I only wished to have your opinion upon the point. Nothing of the sort has occurred. Well, gentlemen, I have decided to place my case in your hands. Will five hundred dollars satisfy you as a retaining fee?"
"Certainly." Mr. Dudley tried hard not to let it appear that he had never received so large a fee before. Dr. Medjora took a wallet from his pocket and counted out the amount. Mr. Bliss arose from his chair and started to leave the room, but as he touched the door knob the Doctor turned sharply and said:
"Will you oblige me by not leaving the room?"
"Oh! Certainly!" replied Mr. Bliss, mystified, and returning to his seat.
"Here, gentlemen, is the sum. I will take your receipt, if you please.
Now then, as to your advice. Shall I surrender myself to the District
Attorney, and so destroy argument number one, as you suggested?"
"But, Doctor," said Mr. Dudley, "you have not told us your defence."
"I am satisfied with the one which you have outlined. Should future developments require it, I will tell you whatever you need to know, in order to perfect your case. For the present I prefer to keep silent."
"Well, but really, unless you confide in your lawyers you materially weaken your case."
"I have more at stake than you have, gentlemen! You will gain in reputation, whatever may be the result. I risk my life. You must permit me therefore to conduct myself as I think best."
"Oh! Certainly, if that is your wish. As to your surrendering yourself, I strongly advise it, as you probably could not escape from the city, and even if you did, you would undoubtedly be recaptured."
"There you are entirely wrong. Not only can I escape, as you term it, but I would never be retaken."
"Then why take the risk of a trial? Innocent men have been convicted, even when ably defended!"
"Yes, and guilty ones have escaped. But you ask why I do not leave New York. I answer, because I wish to remain here. Were I to run away from these charges, of course I should never be able to return."
"Then, Doctor, I advise you to surrender."
"I will adopt your advice. But not until the day after to-morrow. I have some affairs to settle first."
"But you risk being captured by the detectives."
"I think not," said the Doctor, with a smile.
"Should we wish to communicate with you, where may we be able to find you, Doctor?"
Doctor Medjora appeared not to have heard the question. He said:
"Oh! By the way, gentlemen, you need not either of you study up chemistry, as did Mr. Munson. You remember the case? I know enough chemistry for any experts that they may introduce, and will formulate the main lines of their cross-examination myself. Let me refer to a point that you made. Did I understand you that if we can show that Mabel died of diphtheria, our case is won?"
"Why, certainly, Doctor. If we can prove that, we show that she died a natural death."
"Of course, I understood that. I merely wished to show you what a simple thing our defence is. We will convince the jury of that. I will meet you at the office of the District Attorney at eleven o'clock on the day after to-morrow. Good-morning, gentlemen." The Doctor bowed and left the room. The two lawyers looked at one another a moment, and then Mr. Dudley spoke:
"What a singular man!"
"The most extraordinary man I ever met!"
"Robert, why did you start to leave the room?"
"Mortimer, that is a very curious thing. I had a sort of premonition that he would go away without leaving his address. I meant to instruct Barnes to shadow him, when he should leave. I wonder if he read my thoughts?"
"Rubbish! But why not send Jack after him now? He will catch up with him easily enough."
Acting upon the suggestion, Mr. Bliss went into the outer office, and was annoyed to be told by the office boy that Jack Barnes had gone out half an hour before.
CHAPTER II.
JACK BARNES INVESTIGATES
Jack Barnes, at this time, had just attained his majority. He was studying law with Messrs. Dudley & Bliss, and acting as their office assistant. But it was by no means his intention ever to practise the profession, which he was acquiring with much assiduity. His one ambition was to be a detective. Gifted with a keen, logical mind, a strong disposition to study and solve problems, and possessing the rare faculty of never forgetting a face, or a voice, he thought himself endowed by nature with exactly the faculties necessary to make a successful detective. His study of law was but a preliminary, which, he rightly deemed, would be of value to him.
Anxious, as he was, to try his wits against some noted criminal, the chance had never been his to make the effort. He had indeed ferreted out one or two so-called "mysterious cases," but these had been in a small country village, where a victory over the dull-witted constabulary had counted for little in his own estimation.
Naturally he had read with avidity all the various newspaper accounts of the supposed murder of Mabel Sloane, and it was with considerable satisfaction that he had read the name upon the card intrusted to him to be taken to his employers. It seemed to him that at last fortune had placed an opportunity within his grasp. Here was a man, suspected of a great crime, whom the great Metropolitan detective force had entirely failed to locate. From what he had read of Dr. Medjora, he quickly decided
