The witness paused as he began his answer and seemed in deep thought. Once he raised his head with a blank expression and then dropped it again. Finally he looked up and said: “On the curtain nighest the door.” “And the smallest?” “On the curtain nighest the road.” “The witness will step down a moment and Mr. Isaac Trafford will take the stand.” All necks were craned to see the detective, and every ear intent for his testimony. It was most disappointing. “Have you made any experiments,” the coroner asked; “as to the shadow thrown on the shades of Mr. Wing’s library, with relation to the position of the light?” “I have.” “With what results?” “If the light is on the writing-desk, the highest and largest shadow is thrown on the shade nearest the street and none is thrown on the shade nearest the door. If the light is on the reading-table in front of the fireplace, or in the centre of the mantel over the fireplace, the highest and largest shadow is on the shade of the centre window. If the light is on the mantel near the safe, the largest and highest shadow is on the shade nearest the door, and the smallest and lowest on the shade nearest the road. If the light is on the safe itself, or on the stand near the safe, no shadow is thrown on the shade nearest the street.” “You have heard the testimony of the last witness as to the shadows he saw?” “I have.” “What is your conclusion from that testimony as to the position of the light at the time the witness passed up the drive?” “That it was on the mantel nearly above the safe.” “Have you made any experiments to determine in what position any one would place the light, if he had the safe open and desired the best light on its contents?” “I have.” “With what result?” “That he would place it on the mantel about a foot or a foot and a half west of the safe.” “Then the testimony of the witness and the result of your experiments would lead you to conclude that at the time the witness passed up the drive, the occupant of the room had the safe open and the light so placed that he could best see into it?” “It is entirely compatible with that assumption.” Mr. Trafford was dismissed and Oldbeg recalled. There was a buzz in the room. “What do you s’pose that was fur?” one man asked another. “For impression. It shows how mighty cute Trafford is, an’ lets folks know that there’s somebody arter ’em as knows what’s what.” “Onless Trafford got it up hisself fur advertisin’,” suggested the other, a hard-headed Yankee to whom shrewdness was a natural instinct. “Do you own a pistol?” demanded the coroner, as Oldbeg settled himself to his examination. Every eye turned towards the witness, who fidgeted before answering, as if he was in doubt what to say. At last, when attention was at its keenest, he found his tongue and said: “Nope.” “Yet you bought a thirty-two calibre one on May eighth.”