"But the powder marks spoiled the picture of suicide for me. The rest was merely a matter of routine. The same was true of the Schurman affair. It was made to look to the casual observer like suicide. If you did not accept the suicide theory, you were given an alternative theory, the mode of entrance, the big meal, the eggs, the nail file with positive fingerprints. The one thing that spoiled that was the apple. Remember the apple? "To satisfy me the murderer would have to be identified with the apple. You see arresting 'Fingy' left the apple unaccounted for. In the Miller case the murderer would have to be identified with a rope that came from a farmyard that contained a boxwood hedge, a sorrel horse, leghorn chickens, a collie dog and some other items. He would also have to be identified with a hat factory." "What do you mean by saying that these two men were arrested charged with those murders?" "I mean that it was a foregone conclusion that if the suicide theory was exploded, these men would be charged with the crime?" "A foregone conclusion in whose mind, Professor?" "In the mind of the--murderer, Mr. McCall. You see, don't you, the thin line of demarcation that lies between truth and falsehood? When the difference between the two may mean the difference between life and death it behooves me to be extremely careful. I am not holding a brief for the defendant or the state, Mr. District Attorney, I am seeking the truth." Chapter XVIII Jimmy had not been sleeping well nights. On this night he dreamed that he was alone in the city room of the Eagle doing the dog watch. He was reading a history of the Civil War in which was stressed the reconstruction period with its harrowing details, a period under which serious dismemberment of the country was threatened. While he was reading this, the telegraph instrument in the telegraph room kept up its intermittent tapping. He awoke with the tapping still in his ears, as though in continuation of his dream. He lay still thinking of the eccentricities of dreams in general when the tapping of which he had been conscious in his dreams was repeated at his window. This time it did not sound like a telegraph instrument. It seemed that a number of pebbles had struck the upper window panes, the lower being open. He distinctly heard some of the pebbles strike the floor. He lay still when he was aware of a repetition of the sound. He got out of bed and went to the window. Standing in the graying dawn was his youthful pilot, Harry Stoy. The youth was beckoning earnestly for Jimmy to come down stairs. Slipping on some clothes and a pair of soft soled moccasins Jimmy stole out of the house being careful not to awaken any of its inmates. Harry held his finger to his mouth as a signal for silence and led the way down to the water front. Here he whispered excitedly: "Say, Mr. Hale, I think I know where the kid is?" Jimmy stared at the youth who was shivering with excitement. "You mean Tommy, Harry?"