"You needn't mince matters," said the coroner. "I was at Brown's that night, and between the hours you name. Being a public officer, I sometimes look into Brown's, and a good many other places, too, to see that nothin' a'n't a-goin' on wrong. Ha! I partickly 'member it, because I accidentally lost about fifty dollars there that night. Ha! ha!" "I think I recollect the little circumstance," said the witness, with a smile. "Very likely. Ha! Now, Myndert, of course we all understand that you are innocent; but, to satisfy the public, I guess I'd better summon a few witnesses from Brown's, to prove you were there all night." "I thought of that, Harry, and requested a number of my friends at Brown's to drop around here, and prove an _alibi_ for me. They were very much engaged at the time, or they would have come with me." "They were playing faro," said the old gentleman, "and my son was gambling with them. Wretched young man, how often have I cautioned you against that vice!" "The cautioning I don't object to," said the son; "but I consider it unfair to drag a fellow away from a streak of good luck. I was raking in the piles just as you and the policeman, and that mop-headed youth behind you" (he alluded to the boy Bog) "came down on me. Ah! I see the game is finished, and here they are." Four men, of a highly correct appearance, dressed in quiet good taste, who would have passed in the Broadway muster for merchants of the severest practical variety, entered the room. They nodded in the most gentlemanly manner to the coroner, and gave a friendly recognition to young Myndert. "You may be willing to believe these polished scoundrels under oath; but hang me if I would!" said the old gentleman, with emphasis. The four gamblers showed their even rows of white teeth pleasantly, and one of them replied: "You are an elderly gentleman, Mr. Van Quintem, and the father of our young friend; and, of course, you are permitted to abuse us as much as you like." "It seems to me, Mr. Van Quintem," said the coroner, "that you are rather hard on these gen'lemen, who, so fur as I know 'em, is of the highest respectability. Don't yer want to have yer son prove an _alibi?_" "I want to have him prove the truth, and that's all. And for that reason I wouldn't credit such evidence as these men will give." "You would like to have me hanged, my dear father," said the son, mildly; "but I don't think you will be gratified in that amiable little desire. Eh, Harry?" The coroner grinned, shifted his quid, put on his most serious official look, and said: "No more of this 'ere jokin', if you please, gen'lemen. A inquest isn't zactly the place for fun."