Old Farmer Bunker lived alone. His wife had died years ago and he had never remarried. He had no children. People said he ought not to live alone, that something was certain to happen to him; robbers would break into his house and steal his valuables and perhaps kill him. For once the people happened, so it seemed, to be right. One morning Mr. Bunker was found dead in his bed, and an ugly knife wound over the heart seemed to tell only too plainly what had been the cause of his death. An autopsy was not considered necessary. The services of a detective rather than those of the medical examiner were called into requisition. I was the detective detailed to look into the case. The first thought was that robbery had been committed. An examination of the house failed to show any evidence that such had been the intention of the murderer. Apparently nothing had been disturbed. A bureau drawer containing a large sum of money had not even been opened. Then it was thought that the old man must have committed suicide. A search was made for the implement with which he had committed the deed, but it was nowhere to be found. It was certain that death had been almost instantaneous, and of course Mr. Bunker could not have had time to hide the instrument of self-destruction. It was, therefore, unmistakably a case of murder. I began an immediate and most thorough and systematic search for the murderer. Although Mr. Bunker had lived alone he was neither a miser nor a crank, and did not appear to have had an enemy in the world. The crowds that flocked to the house came to view the body of their old friend, and to express a wish that his murderer be brought to speedy justice. Motives of mere curiosity did not actuate many of them. From several of them I gathered a number of clues, all of which pointed to one conclusion, namely, that a tramp had been seen coming from the direction of the Bunker farm early in the morning of the day on which the body of Mr. Bunker had been found. I now directed my efforts to trace and locate the tramp. On the next day I had him in custody. He had not gone far. He made some very extraordinary statements. He said that Mr. Bunker was his friend, and that he had not killed him. When searched he had in his possession over $20 in bills. He was also known to have sent $30 to somebody in Virginia. This money he claimed had been given to him by Mr. Bunker. He furthermore claimed that he was not a tramp but a machinist in search of work. “Was an autopsy held upon the body of Mr. Bunker?” inquired the suspected man. “No; the cause of death was too plainly apparent.” “I thought as much. If an autopsy had been held it would have shown that Mr. Bunker died a natural death.” I was impressed with the man’s sincerity. He seemed to be no ordinary tramp, and I was convinced that he was telling the truth, as he believed it.