It was natural, perhaps, that in Hanley people began to attribute both deaths to supernatural agency. Certainly there were curious points in the case, but it seemed to me that I had had harder problems to solve. First, I made myself acquainted with the evidence which had been given at Richard Coleman's trial. I know that to read evidence is not the same thing as hearing it, but one or two points struck me forcibly. Why had Coleman been recommended to mercy? True, his counsel's address had been an eloquent one, but if the prisoner were guilty surely there could be no extenuating circumstances in such a dastardly crime. The evidence was strongly against Coleman, yet in spite of this the jury had recommended him to mercy. Was there a doubt in their minds? Do we not all know that subtle doubt which comes even hand in hand with what we believe is conviction? There have been times with us all when we have given judgment and immediately began to doubt that judgment. Unless something of this sort had happened to this jury, I could not understand the recommendation to mercy. Again, I was not satisfied with the assumption that Simon Judd's dead body had been thrown into the well. The well was certainly of immense depth, and possibly tapped an underground cave full of water, which might account for the futility of dragging operations; but the shred of pajamas and the slipper found in the shed were not of themselves sufficient evidence that the body had been got rid of in this way. Even with the other signs of struggle in the house the evidence was not conclusive. Simon Judd might be alive, in which case he might be the murderer. Such an hypothesis was, however, unlikely. The brothers were devoted to each other, as twins often are; the overturned chessboard proved that normal relations had existed between them that evening, that they had played their usual game before retiring. If Simon Judd was dead, and his body was not in the well, where was it? Hidden securely, at any rate, and therefore, presumably, by someone who knew the farm well, which Richard Coleman did not. Again, why had the murderer troubled to hide only one body? Another point which struck me as curious was the wonderful accuracy of Mrs. Gilson's description of Richard Coleman. It was nearly dark when she met him; in passing she could have little opportunity to examine him closely, yet her description was sufficient to lead to his arrest. These considerations set me speculating and, with more excitement than was usual with me, I set to work to see how far my speculations were supported by facts. To begin with, I had an interview with Richard Coleman in prison. I did not tell him of the new tragedy at the farm; I merely said that some new facts had come to light, and that if he answered my questions it might be to his ultimate benefit. "A man unjustly imprisoned does not easily believe that," he returned.