its intended victim, passed through the upper lobe of Arbogast's left lung, and out at the back at an angle of about sixty degrees. The bookkeeper was standing not far from the mantel-piece yonder. Do you see that broad black line on the hearth? That was made by the bullet. Its direction and the angle enabled me at once to see that it must have ricochetted into the fire-place; and there, sure enough, I found it in the soot in the bend of the chimney. Here it is." Dunlap had listened to this narrative with evident interest. But now, recovering from the spell of Sturgis's persuasive conviction, his skepticism regained the ascendancy for a moment. "Mr. Sturgis, you have missed your vocation," he said, laughing good naturedly; "you ought to have been a playwright. You have a most convincing way of presenting both your facts and your theories. While you are speaking, one is ready to admit the plausibility of every statement you make. But now that you have finished, I have become a hard-headed banker once more, and I beg to submit one or two facts--since we are seeking facts--which it seems to me are enough to demolish all your elaborate structure." "Go on," said Sturgis; "it goes without saying that any theory is worthless unless it takes into account and explains every existing fact. If there are any in this case which have escaped me--a contingency which is quite possible, for I have no pretension to infallibility--I shall be glad to hear about them; and naturally, if my conclusions do not tally with the facts, the conclusions must be altered, since facts are absolute."