The next witness proved to be the man that worked around Warren's place. The gardener was the usual type of a workman, rather dull, with a heavy, uninteresting face. He announced somewhat loudly that he knew nothing about the murder and said that he had not known that his master was dead until he heard the news in the village late in the evening. When asked about the Chinaman, he replied that he had not seen him. Most of the afternoon he had been working in the garden, which, I judged from his testimony, was so placed that he could not see the library. It seemed as if his testimony was to be of no importance when, just after he had been excused, the coroner called him back to ask if he had seen any one around the library. He stumbled back into his seat and thought a moment, then said: “Can't say that I did. But when I was going to the house after the six o'clock whistle blew, I saw something. Don't think it is of any importance.” “What was it?” was the question. “Well,” came the slow reply, “I came down by the library, and I seen a rowboat going round the bend of the point. Did not see the person in it because the boat was just getting out of sight.” The coroner suggested he could not swear that the boat had come from Warren's shore, and was surprised by having the man say he was pretty sure it had. But why he was sure of this he was unable to say, and though the doctor pressed him to explain, he could not. He left the stand having given, as far as I could see, no evidence of any importance. Again the coroner and the chief held a short conversation. Then the doctor surprised us by saying that the inquest would be adjourned until after lunch. As it was only eleven-thirty this seemed rather odd, for there was still time to hear another witness. As it was, the morning session had been of little value. Nothing had been brought out that we did not know, and the testimony of the gardener regarding the row boat seemed of little worth. He was not sure the boat had come from Warren's shore line. The crowd filed out with a great deal of noise. They seemed to be a bit disappointed. There had been no spectacular revelations, nothing sensational. Just the bald recital of the murder and nothing more. One could tell by their talk, and the shaking of heads, that the inquest had not proven what they expected. And after they had all gone out we went to the car and drove back to Carter's for an early lunch. Lunch was a rather quiet affair and it was not until we had gone out on the veranda for our smoke that any one mentioned the inquest. Then, when we had settled back in our chairs to enjoy the thirty minutes which remained before our return to the Court House, I asked what they thought of the morning session. Carter, watching the smoke from his cigar as it curled away in the breeze, replied: