When the paying teller had concluded it was late in the afternoon. It was dark out-of-doors and the gas had been lighted within, but the crowd had not diminished; on the contrary, it had been steadily augmented wherever a new spectator had found a chance to wedge his way into the throng. So intense was the interest that neither the Coroner nor a juror had suggested any recess. They sat scarcely moving in their seats, intent only on the words of each succeeding witness. All felt something final must come soon. The evidence was logical and dovetailed perfectly; it all pointed to one man. Who was he? The police must know, they could not have failed in this one vital particular after succeeding so fully in all others. I could read these thoughts in the faces of those about me, in their expectant attitudes; and I felt they were not to be disappointed. The police had done their work thoroughly and the Inspector had submitted its results with telling effect. If it were his purpose to work his evidence up to a climax he had succeeded and the moment had now come for the crowning of his success,--the identification of the man. After that there would be little left apparently for the lawyers of the State to do; but I felt there might be something for some one to undo. There was a slight disturbance among the spectators at one side of the room near the door; "another spectator struggling for a nearer view," I thought to myself; and then amid an expectant hush the night-officer was recalled to the stand. "Officer," said Dalton, "you said you thought you would recognize the man you saw that night if you should see him again; look about you now! Do you see him?" The officer let his gaze pass over the jury and witnesses and slowly on to where the spectators were gathered at the farther end of the room,--men retreating before the searching glance as from the eye of fate,--and then he leaned forward and fixed his look on a man standing where the retreating crowd had left him almost alone: "That is the man," he said. I looked; it was Winters! He wore the light coat and was fingering nervously the brown derby hat which he held. His head was bent, but one could see that his face was very pale and his eyes dull and heavy from drinking. It was a pitiful sight, this helpless accused man, seemingly unconscious of his position, and I turned away; but the crowd stared as though fascinated even while they shrank from him. The Inspector next recalled the witness Smith. "Can you identify among the persons present the man who lost the fifty-dollar bill at your gambling table?" he asked. Without hesitation he also pointed to Winters and said that he was the man.