He was in Mr. Whiteley’s employ. He had gone with Mr. Whiteley to take a load of potatoes to Downeyville. He had called Mr. Whiteley’s attention to the body of the deceased. It was lying on it’s face in the grass, close to the “big stone.” He had thought at first that it was some one drunk. He had said to Mr. Whiteley that “there was a happy man,” or, “that man ought to be happy,” or some such speech—could not remember the exact words. He did not think much about it till Mr. Whiteley stopped the cart and jumped out. Mr. Whiteley had turned the body over, and he had recognized the face as that of Mr. Naylor—called Mr. Whiteley’s attention to the same. Mr. Whiteley called on him to lift deceased into the cart. He was very sick, and it was some time before he could bring himself to touch the body. (Doctor) Justin S. Winterapple was the next witness called. He had made the post-mortem examination before the coroner’s jury. There was the mark of only one contusion—it was at the base of the cranium, immediately behind and under the right ear. The bone was fractured as though with some heavy weapon. It might have been done with the club or knotted piece of wood found lying beside the deceased—thought altogether likely that it was done by it. He did not think that the deceased died immediately upon receiving the blow. All this was terrible to Tom; so terrible that he grasped the railing in front of him, until his finger nails were livid with the force of the grip. But what must it have been to Patty? Tom looked at her, and the expression of her face made him forget his own troubles. “Oh, God!” muttered he to himself, “that I should have come home to bring all this upon her!” The next witness called was Mrs. Bond. She testified that the prisoner had come by the _Union_ line, in stage No. 3, the day before. He and Mr. Gaines had met, and had gone into the parlor; they had talked there a long time, and at last the prisoner had come out, and had gone up Market street in the direction of his home. She had not known the prisoner until Mr. Gaines had told her. She remembered to have remarked how changed he was, and that she would never have known him with his long beard and his grey hair. Mr. Morrow looked vexed. “Why hasn’t Mr. Gaines been called?” said he; “how is it he hasn’t been called? Where is he now?” “He’s out at Mr. Milton Granger’s,” said the constable. The magistrate “pished” and “pshawed,” but at last he said that they might as well go on with the examination of the other witnesses, and that they could send for Mr. Gaines if his evidence should be found to be necessary.