“He did, but not with so much energy as formerly,” replied the doctor. “What was your impression, derived from this interview?” “I am not willing to give my impressions; they might injure Mr. Birch, who has been, and still is, my friend; but I told him I was afraid he was more deeply implicated than any one yet suspected.” “And you advised him to leave town--did you?” continued the coroner. “I did; but, as I said before, I did not suspect him of complicity in the murder.” Dick Birch was almost stunned by this evidence, so glaringly false, his real words so purposely twisted to meet the villain’s ends. By this time Eugene Hungerford had arrived. He was summoned to the stand the moment he entered the room. He testified as at the examination. “Mr. Hungerford, you were afraid Ross Kingman would kill Buckstone if he met him?” “I was; but I had no suspicion that Buckstone was in Poppleton, then.” “Did you mention your fears to Mr. Birch?” “I did.” “What did he say?” “Nothing of any consequence.” The letters were produced. They were directed to “Mr. Eliot Buckstone, New York City,” and one of them bore the post-mark of Poppleton; the other was from Providence. The Poppleton letter was opened and read by the coroner. The last part of it was as follows:-- If you will marry the girl again, I will insure you five thousand dollars, and possibly you may have double that sum. Come and see me, at all events. Leave the train at Newington, and come over privately--after dark. Don’t fail to come. Yours truly, RICHARD BIRCH. Hungerford was shocked, stunned, overwhelmed. This letter had been taken from the pocket of the dead man by the sheriff. “I did not write that letter, Hungerford,” said Dick, calmly, as he was called to the stand. “You are a lawyer, sir; I need not tell you that you are not bound to criminate yourself,” said the coroner. “You need not,” replied Dick, significantly. “Did you write this letter?” “I did not.” “It bears your signature.” “Will you let me look at it?” It was handed to him. “This is not my writing.” “Did you ever write a letter to Mr. Buckstone?” “I did.” “More than one?” “Only one.” “What was it about?” “I wrote it at Ross Kingman’s request. I threatened Buckstone with a criminal prosecution.” “Did you look at the envelope of this letter?” “The superscription is in my handwriting. The date in the post-mark is not legible; but I have no doubt this envelope is the one in which I sent the only letter I ever wrote to Mr. Buckstone. This is not my writing, though it looks something like it, and the paper is different from that I always use.” Dr. Bilks gave a sudden start, as though he had thought of something forgotten or neglected. Hungerford saw him, and without signifying his intention to any one, left the hall. Dr. Bilks soon followed him.