The week before a great case is called is a busy one for the prosecutor in charge. He is at his office early to interview his main witnesses and go over their testimony with them so that their regular daily work may not be interrupted more than shall be actually necessary. Some he cautions against being over-enthusiastic and others he encourages to greater emphasis. The bashful “cop” is badgered until at last he ceases to begin his testimony in the cut-and-dried police fashion. “On the morning of the twenty-second of July, about 3.30 A.M., while on post at the corner of Desbrosses Street——,” he starts. “Oh, quit that!” shouts the district attorney. “Tell me what you saw in your own words.” The “cop” blushes and stammers: “Aw, well, on the morning of the twenty-second of July, about 3.30 A.M.——” “Look here!” yells the prosecutor, jumping to his feet and shaking his fist at him, “do you want to be taken for a d——n liar? ‘Morning of the twenty-second of July, about 3.30 A.M., while on post!’ You never talked like that in your life.” By this time the “cop” is “mad clear through.” “I’m no liar!” he retorts. “I saw the cuss pull his gun and shoot!” “Well, why didn’t you say so?” laughs the prosecutor, and Patrick, mollified with a cigar, dimly perceives the objectionable feature of his testimony. About this time one of the sleuths comes in to report that certain much-desired witnesses have been “located” and are in custody downstairs. The assistant makes immediate preparation for taking their statements. Then one of the experts comes in for a chat about a new phase of the case occasioned by the discovery that the defendant actually _did_ have spasms when an infant. The assistant wisely makes an appointment for the evening. A telegram arrives saying that a witness for the defence has just started for New York from Philadelphia and should be duly watched on arrival. The district attorney sends for the assistant to inquire if he has looked up the law on similar cases in Texas and Alabama—which he probably has not done; and a friend on the telephone informs him that Tomkins, who has been drawn on the jury, is a boon companion of the prisoner and was accustomed to play bridge with him every Sunday night before the murder.