"Do you mean to say," Van Bult inquired, "that you believe the statement you made to the jury to be the true explanation of the murder?" "I do," Littell answered. "But if that were so, it might put the crime upon some man we know," Van Bult continued, "possibly even a friend and you cannot think that?" "Why not?" Littell asked; "it would not be the first time a man of intelligence and social prominence had done such a thing. You can never tell what a man is capable of till he has been tried. Very few men, I admit you," he went on, "commit great crimes, but that is not always because they are too good for it; it is sometimes only because the fatal occasion does not arise for them and sometimes because the men themselves are not equal to the occasion. The man who has once committed a murder," he continued, reflectively, while we all listened intently, "is no worse in nature, necessarily, after than before the deed, and no more dangerous to society, that is if he is a man of intelligence; because he has done it once is no reason that he will do it again, any more than the fact that he has never done it is an assurance that he never will. There are worse offences than murder, too; a man may kill another man, and yet not cheat at cards or talk about a woman." He paused, but no one said anything and he went on in the same dispassionate tone: "There are men of wealth and position in this city, men respected and sought after, not a few, who would kill if the occasion were great enough; it is only a matter of measure with them; and it is among such men you must look for Arthur White's murderer." When he concluded there was an expression of horror upon Davis's face and I was repelled even while fascinated by this cold-blooded analysis of my fellow-men's nature and motives, but I recognized there was a degree of truth in it, nevertheless. It was Van Bult who continued the conversation. "I do not agree with you," he said, "and I do not believe you mean what you say; I know the pessimistic view you affect to take of human nature, and I know, too, the real charity you feel for it in your heart." Van Bult spoke warmly, but Littell received the tribute with a shrug as he held his glass up to the light and judged critically its color. "Have your way," he said, "but if the time ever comes when my words are verified, remember I said them." "Perhaps we may not have to wait very long for the truth about this case," I now said, "for Miles thinks he has discovered a new clue and is hard at work upon it and I happened upon something this afternoon that may help him." "What was that?" Davis inquired, but I did not think it worth while to go into the details of my meeting with Belle Stanton and did not answer. "The case is too much for such as Miles to solve, I think," Littell said, and then looking at me added, "You might do better, Dick, but I am not sure the job would repay you."