on, Coroner Goldberg asking the questions. He was a really good cross-examiner, and soon came to the core of the matter.
"What is the position of your desk in Mr. Holladay's office?" he asked.
"There is an outer office for the clerks; opening from that, a smaller room where my desk is placed. Opening from my room was Mr. Holladay's private office.
"Had Mr. Holladay's office any other door?"
"No, sir."
"Could entrance be had by the windows?"
"The windows open on the street side of the building. We occupy a part of the eighth floor."
"The fire-escapes——"
"Are at the back of the building—there are none on the street side—nothing but a sheer wall."
"So that anyone entering or leaving the private office must necessarily pass by your desk?"
"Necessarily; yes, sir."
"Could anyone pass without your seeing him?"
"No, sir; that would be quite impossible."
The coroner leaned back in his chair. There was one point settled.
"Now, Mr. Rogers," he said, "will you kindly tell us, in your own way and with as much detail as possible, exactly what happened at your office shortly before five o'clock yesterday afternoon?"
I could see that Rogers was deeply moved. His face was very white, he moistened his lips nervously from time to time, and his hands grasped convulsively the arms of his chair. Plainly, the task before him was far from an agreeable one.
"Well, sir," he began, "we had a very busy day yesterday, and were at the office considerably later than usual; but by five o'clock we had closed up work for the day, and all the other clerks, with the exception of the office-boy, had gone home. I had made some notes from Mr. Holladay's dictation, and had returned to my desk to arrange them, when the outer door opened and Mr. Holladay's daughter came in. She asked me whether her father was engaged, and upon my saying no, opened the inner door and entered his office. She remained, I should think, about ten minutes; then she came out again, walked rapidly past without looking at me, and, I suppose, left the building. I finished arranging my notes, and then entered Mr. Holladay's office to ask if he had any further instructions for me, and I found him lying forward on his desk, with a knife sticking in his neck and the blood spurting out. I summoned aid, but he died without regaining consciousness—I should say he was practically dead when I found him."
I felt, rather than heard, the little stir which ran through the room. There was an indefinable horror in the story and in the conclusion to which it inevitably led.
"Now, let us go back a moment," said the coroner, as Rogers stopped and mopped his forehead feverishly. "I want the jury to understand your story thoroughly. Mr. Holladay had been dictating to you?"
"Yes."
"And was quite well?"
"Yes—as well as usual. He'd been suffering with indigestion for some time past."
"Still he was able to attend to business?"
"Oh, yes, sir. There was nothing at all serious in his illness."
"You then left his office and returned to your own. How long had you been there before the outer door opened?"
"Not over five minutes."
"And who was it entered?"
"Miss Frances Holladay—the daughter of my employer."
"You're quite sure? You know her well?"
"Very well. I've known her for many years. She often drove to the office in the evening to take her father home. I supposed that was what she came for yesterday."
"You looked at her attentively?"
Rogers hitched impatiently in his chair.
"I glanced at her, as I always do," he said. "I didn't stare."
"But you're quite sure it was Miss Holladay?"
"Absolutely sure, sir. Good God!" he cried, his nerves giving way for an instant, "do you suppose I'd make an assertion like that if I wasn't absolutely sure?"
"No," said the coroner soothingly; "no, I don't suppose any such thing, not for a moment, Mr. Rogers; only I want the jury to see how certain the identification is. Shall I proceed?"
"Go ahead, sir," said Rogers. "I'll try to hold myself together a little better, sir."
"I can see what a strain this is for you," said the coroner kindly; "and I'll spare you as much as I can. Now, after Miss Holladay entered the inner office, how long did she remain there?"
"About ten minutes, I should say; not longer than that, certainly."
"Did you hear any sound of conversation, or any unusual noise of any kind?"
"No, sir. It would have been a very unusual noise to be audible. Mr. Holladay's office has heavy walls and a double door which completely shut off all sounds from within."
"Miss Holladay then came out?"
"Yes, sir."
"And walked past you?"
"Yes, sir; walked past me rapidly."
"Did you not think that peculiar?"
"Why, sir, she didn't often stop to speak to me. I was busy and so thought nothing particularly about it."
"Did you notice her face? Did she seem perturbed?"
"No, sir; I didn't notice. I just glanced up and bowed. In fact, I didn't see her face at all, for she had lowered her veil."
"Her veil!" repeated the coroner. "You hadn't mentioned that she wore a veil."
"No, sir; when she came into the office she had lifted it up over her hat-brim—you know how women do."
"Yes—so you saw her face distinctly when she entered?"
"Yes, sir."
"But when she went out, she had lowered her veil. Was it a heavy one?"
"Why, sir," the witness hesitated, "just an ordinary veil, I should say."
"But still heavy enough to conceal her face?"
"Oh, yes, sir."
The coroner nodded. "Now, Mr. Rogers, how long a time elapsed after the departure of the woman before you went back into the inner office?"
"Not more than three or four minutes. I thought perhaps Mr. Holladay was getting ready to accompany his daughter, and I didn't wish to detain him."
"And
