If that light had been in the wine saloon at 1 o’clock with Ross’s knowledge, he must have known, or at least have thought, that the fact might be proved by a dozen independent and reputable witnesses. If it had been a fact he would have been ready with an explanation, such as that they were dismantling the premises. But his emphatic, if not very polite, answer was: “That’s a lie.” The same remark applies to the answers in regard to the little girl being seen in the saloon with the glass in front of her. If she had been there she would, as has already been said, have been seen probably by a hundred people. But Ross’s answer to the suggestion that she was there was to brand it as a lie. And Matthews and Maddox were the only persons called to prove it was not a lie. That, however, is not the present point. We are dealing with the light in the saloon. Since the trial a further fact has been disclosed in connection with this question which lends a great deal of support to the theory put forward by counsel on the appeals. A Sydney paper, still in its youth and advertising stage, has degraded journalism in connection with the Ross case in a way that is happily rare in the annals of the newspaper world. As Ross lay in the condemned cell, it gloated over his impending doom in a manner that showed that it did not appreciate the cowardice of kicking a man, even a criminal, when he is down. But it apparently had plenty of money to spend for the work of pushing its circulation among those who like that kind of literature. Its Melbourne representative did undoubtedly get well into the secrets connected with the working up of the case against Ross. In its issue of March 25, it had an article dealing with the preparation of the case which was clearly inspired. One paragraph referred to “another piece of unrecorded history,” as follows: “There is a card school that assembles frequently at the Arcade, or did prior to the trial. On the night of December 30, the players dispersed shortly before midnight. They went out of the Arcade by way of Little Collins Street. Passing the wine shop, they noticed that it was lit up. But this they also noticed—that Room 33 also showed a light. The tenant was not in the room. He had lent it to a friend who was entertaining there a young woman, the daughter of a former officer of police. Ross, too, had seen the light. He must have noticed it at intervals during the evening, and watched it with despairing hope that its users would go away instead of staying on, hour after hour, spoiling his plans. At last it appeared as though the room was going to be occupied all night. Some new way had to be found. It was then that he thought of Gun Alley....”