He said he was a police-surgeon. At about nine o’clock on the morning of July 13th he had been summoned to the house of the decedent; had examined the body and satisfied himself as to the mode of death. There were three separate knife-wounds. These he proceeded to describe in technical language. Not one of them could have been self-inflicted; any one of them was sufficient to have caused immediate death. “Dr. Merrill,” inquired the prosecutor, “how long—how many hours—prior to your arrival must the crime have been perpetrated?” “From seven to ten hours.” “So that—?” “So that the crime must have been perpetrated between eleven and two o’clock.” “Good.—Now, Doctor, here is a handkerchief which the captain says he took from the prisoner on the morning of his arrest. Do you recognize it?” “I do.” “Go on—what about it?” “It was submitted to me for chemical analysis—to analyze the substance, with which it is discolored.” “And you found?” “I found that it was stained with blood,” “Human blood?” “Precisely.” “About how long had it been shed? Did its condition indicate?” “From its condition when submitted to me—that is, at about noon on the 13th—I inferred that it had been shed not much less nor much more than twelve hours.” “Thank you, Doctor,” said the lawyer. To Epstein, “Your witness.” “One moment, Doctor,” said Epstein. Turning to me, “You can give no explanation of this circumstance?” he whispered.—“None,” I answered.—To the witness, “Doctor, blood may be shed in divers ways, may it not? This blood on the handkerchief, for instance—it might have come from—say, a nose-bleed, eh?” The surgeon smiled, hesitated, then replied, “Possibly, though not probably. Its quality is rather that of blood from a wound than that of blood from congested capillaries. But it is quite possible.” “You can go, Doctor.”—To me, “Are you sure you didn’t have a nose-bleed on the night in question?” “I know nothing at all about it.” The next witness was a woman. She said she was the janitress of the apartment-house, No.—East Fifty-first street. It was a portion of her duty as such to open the street-door when the bell was rung. On the evening of July 12th, she had opened the door and admitted the prisoner between seven and eight o’clock. “Can you say at what hour the prisoner left the house?” “Yes, sir, I can. It was a warm night, and me and my husband were seated out on the stoop for the sake of the breeze till late. Mr. Neuman went out a little before twelve o’clock.” “He entered between seven and eight. He left at about midnight. Now, meanwhile, whom else did you admit?” “No one at all. From half past seven until midnight no one went in except Mr. Neuman.” “Was not that a somewhat unusual circumstance?” “Most extraordinary. Me and my husband spoke about it at the time.” “You can swear positively on this score?” “Yes, because we staid on the stoop the whole evening and not a soul could have passed us without our seeing.”