In answer to another question, he said that he had obtained the bill about two o'clock or a little later Tuesday morning from a man who had lost it at his game. He stated further that the man was unknown to him, but that he thought he could recognize him should he see him again. Then pointing to one of the witnesses, he said: "That man was with him!" All eyes were turned in the direction he indicated where a shabby, dissipated looking young fellow was standing by himself pulling at his mustache with an air of assumed bravado. "That will do," said Dalton, and the witness stepped hurriedly down, looking relieved over his dismissal. The bill the witness had identified, together with the one Van Bult had given me, were then compared by the officials and the jury, and they proved to be of the same bank issue and series. I saw the jurors looking with admiration at the Inspector, and I felt myself that much credit was due him. The police work had been quickly and well done. Their case was indeed thoroughly "worked up," and I had to confess to myself, despite my disapproval of the method, that if they had not started with the assumption that Winters was the guilty man, they would not have found the money or secured any evidence to direct the verdict of the jury; but the question still remained, was its conclusion to be the true one? Time would tell. Almost before the sensation created by the last evidence had subsided, Dalton called to the stand the man pointed out by the witness. He came forward slouching and ill at ease and the looks cast upon him from all sides were not reassuring. Having taken the oath, he stood sullenly awaiting the questions. In answer to the usual question he gave his name as Lewis Roberts. "You were in Smith's place Tuesday morning," the Inspector stated, rather than asked him. "I was," he answered. "You were with another man," he continued in the same peremptory tone. "I was." "Did you see him lose that fifty-dollar bill," pointing to the one Smith had identified. "I saw him lose a fifty-dollar bill--I do not know that it was that one." This was plainly a difficult witness. The Inspector leaned toward him, looking him straight in the eyes, and put his next question slowly and with emphasis on each word. "Who was that man?" Just as slowly and firmly came the answer, each word falling distinctly in the stillness. "I do not know." It was almost a sigh of relief that escaped from the audience, but Dalton continued: "Then how did you meet him and when?" "That night in a saloon on the corner of Sixth Avenue and Twenty-Fourth Street; we got to drinking together there." "And where did he get this money?" The witness seemed inclined to answer more freely now, and replied that it was suggested that they go and play the bank, but neither of them had any money, and then his companion said he knew where he thought he could get some and went off saying he would be back before long.