Dever thought Mary Splaine seemed honest, but he did not see how anyone could have remembered all those details from such a distant glimpse, and he decided that she must have refreshed her memory on her visits to the Brockton police station. At the Quincy hearing the year before, when her memory was greener, Mary Splaine had not been so certain of her identification. There she had said of Sacco: “I am almost sure I saw him at Braintree, but I saw him at the Brockton police station afterward.” When Moore, with the Quincy transcript in his hand, pressed her about her negative answers then, she belligerently denied making them but was finally forced to admit that she had said: “I don’t think my opportunity afforded me the right to say he is the man.” This she now qualified by saying that her observation of him for several hours in the Quincy court had convinced her that Sacco was the man in the car. “I am positive, certain he is the man,” she concluded, her voice ringing and determined. “I admit the possibility of an error, but I am certain I am not making a mistake.” As she said this Sacco thrust his head forward, smiling at her with fixed bitterness. Frances Devlin’s story was almost the same as her friend’s, although not so detailed. She had seen the car spurt over the hill with a man leaning out firing at the crowd. She described him as “a dark man, and his forehead, the hair seemed to be grown away from the temple, and it was blown back and he had clear features, and rather good looking, and he had a white complexion and a fairly thickset man, I should say.” Sacco was that man. She was positive. Like Mary Splaine, in the Quincy court she had been less positive. There, the most she had said of Sacco was: “He looks very much like the man that stood up in the back seat shooting.” McGlone, the young teamster who had caught the staggering Parmenter, was another disappointing witness for the Commonwealth. A ferret-faced, stubborn man, he said that the two bandits he had seen were Italians, but that was all he would say about them. Assistant District Attorney Williams could not bring him to say that Sacco and Vanzetti were the gunmen, any more than Moore could bring him to say that they were not. “Well,” McGlone kept on telling them, “I did not get a good look at them to see what they did look like.” Edgar Langlois, the Rice & Hutchins foreman who had looked down from the second-floor window at the two gunmen below him, described them in court as short and dark-complexioned, full-chested, clean-shaven, with curly or wavy hair. He had not been able to identify either Sacco or Vanzetti at Brockton as the men he had seen from the window, nor was he now willing to identify them in court.