"Naw, sir." "Where is your son Deucalion?" "Two days after I left town he want with a 'Love and Charity' scurschion up north, and he liked it so well in Baltymore, he staid thar." "When Deacon Nathan brought you up to town, did you know for what purpose Mr. Dunbar wanted you?" "Naw, sir." "Was it not rather strange that none of your friends recognized the description of you, published in the paper?" "Seems some of 'em did, but felt kind of jub'rus 'bout pinting me out, for human natur is prone to crooked ways, and they never hearn I perfessed sanctification." "Who told you the prisoner had heard your conversation with the man you met that night?" "Did she hear it? Then you are the first pusson to tell me." "How long was it, after you saw the man, before you heard the whistle of the freight train?" "As nigh as I kin rickolect about a half a hour, but not quite." "Was it raining at all when you saw the woman standing on the track?" "Naw, sir. The trees was dripping steady, but the moon was shining." "Do you know anything about the statement made by the prisoner?" "Naw, sir." "Fritz Helmetag." As Isam withdrew, a middle-aged man took the stand, and in answer to Mr. Dunbar's questions deposed: "That he was 'bridge tender' on the railroad, and lived in a cottage not far from the water tank. On the night of the twenty-sixth of October, he was sitting up with a sick wife, and remembered that being feverish, she asked for some fresh water. He went out to draw some from the well, and saw a man standing not far from the bridge. The moon was behind a row of trees, but he noticed the man was bareheaded, and when he called to know what he wanted, he walked back toward the tank. Five minutes later the freight train blew, and after it had crossed the bridge, he went back to his cottage. The man was standing close to the safety signal, a white light fastened to an iron stanchion at south end of the bridge, and seemed to be reading something. Next day, when he (witness) went as usual to examine the piers and under portions of the bridge, he had found the pipe, now in Mr. Dunbar's possession. Tramps so often rested on the bridge, and on the shelving bank of the river beneath it, that he attached no importance to the circumstance; but felt confident the pipe was left by the man whom he had seen, as it was not there the previous afternoon; and he put it in a pigeon-hole of his desk, thinking the owner might return to claim it. On the same day, he had left X--to carry his wife to her mother, who lived in Pennsylvania, and was absent for several weeks. Had never associated the pipe with the murder, but after talking with Mr. Dunbar, who had found the half of an envelope near the south end of the bridge, he had surrendered it to him. Did not see the man's face distinctly. He looked tall and thin."