"Mr. Magistrate," said Duff Salter, "this examination concerns the public and the ends of justice only as bears upon the death of the late citizens of Kensington, William Zane and Saylor Rainey. It is a preliminary examination only, and the person suspected by public gossip has not retained counsel. With your permission, as the executor of William Zane, I will conduct such part of the inquiry here as my duty toward the deceased, and my knowledge of the evidence, notwithstanding my frontier notions of law, suggest to me." "You prosecute?" asked the magistrate, and added, "Yes, yes! I will!" Calvin Van de Lear got up and bowed to the magistrate. "Your Honor, my deep interest in Miss Agnes Wilt has driven me to leave the bedside of a dying parent to see that her interests are properly attended to in this case. Whenever she is concerned I am for the defence." "Yes!" exclaimed the magistrate. "Salter, have you a witness?" "Mike Donovan!" called Duff Salter. A red-haired Irishman, with one eyebrow higher than the other, and scars on his face, walked into the alderman's court from the private room, and was sworn. "Donovan," spoke Duff Salter, standing up, "relate the occurrences of a certain night when you rowed the prisoner, Andrew Zane, and certain other persons, from Treaty Island to an uncertain point in the River Delaware." "Stop! stop!" exclaimed Calvin Van de Lear, rising. "It seems to me I have seen that fellow's face before. Donovan, hadn't you a wooden leg when last I saw you?" "No doubt of it," answered the Irishman. "Why haven't you got it on now?" cried Calvin, scowling. "Because, yer riverence, me own legs was plenty good enough on this occasion." "Now, now, I won't!" ordered the sententious little magistrate. "Proceed with the narrative," cried Duff Salter, "and repeat no part of the conversation in that boat." "It was a dark and lowering night," said the waterman, "as we swung loose from Traity Isle. I sat a little forward of the cintre, managing the oars. Mr. Andrew Zane was in the bow, on the watch for difficulties. In the stern sat the boss, Mr. William Zane. Between him and me--God's rest to him!--sat the murdered gintleman, well-beloved Saylor Rainey! The tide was running six miles an hour. We steered by the lights of Kinsington." "Then you are confident," said Duff Salter, "that the whole length of the skiff separated William Zane from his son?" "As confident, yer honor, as that the batteau had two inds. They niver were nearer, the one to the tother, than that, for the whole of the ixpidition. And scarcely one word did Mr. Andrew utter on the whole ov that bloody passage." "Say nothing, for the present, about any conversations," commanded Duff Salter, "but go on with the occurrences briefly."