“Don’t condemn Dick,” interposed Eugene. “He has been at work on this case from the beginning. The truth will come out in the end; and I am willing to wait, without prejudice to either.” Eugene was disposed to be impartial between his two friends. Since Dr. Bilks had become the demigod of Pine Hill, it was as painful to doubt one as the other. To the doctor he owed his sister’s life; to Dick, the obligations of years of friendship. Who could decide between two men having such claims? At the appointed time on the following morning, Eugene drove Dick over to Summerville. They paid a visit to Ross Kingman, in the jail, as they had often done before during his weary confinement. The prisoner was still comfortable and hopeful. He had ceased to believe that Birch was the person he had seen with Buckstone; for Dick’s denial of the fact was enough for him. The examination commenced. Dick, with the assistance of Mr. Darling, conducted his own defence. Much of the testimony was the same that had been presented at the examination of Ross; but there were many new faces in the court-room. Hubbard swore that he believed the person he had seen with Buckstone was Mr. Birch. Dr. Bilks swore positively that the person was Mr. Birch. Then Dick opened his battery on the doctor, and dragged out the whole story about “Dr. Bilks’s baby” again; but the witness was easy and confident this time. “Dr. Bilks, have you seen Sandy McGuire since you visited him on the day of Ross Kingman’s examination?” asked Dick. “I have, several times.” “When did you see him last?” “Half an hour ago.” “Where is he now?” “Here, your ahnor!” shouted Sandy, from the crowd, to the great amusement of the court and the audience. “My patient is also here,” added the doctor, blandly. “Have you paid this man any money?” “Divil a cint!” shouted Sandy, which called forth a reproof from the officers; and Sandy was compelled to repress himself. “I have not,” replied Dr. Bilks. “Did McGuire visit you on the day Buckstone’s body was found?” “He did.” “Did you draw any money from the bank that day?” “I did; five thousand dollars.” “What did you do with this money?” “Paid this note with it,” replied Dr. Bilks, taking from his pocket-book a note from which the signature had been torn off. The document was examined, and Dick felt that one of his strong points was slipping away from him. “Is this note in your usual handwriting?” “It is.” “Where did you pay it?” “In New York.” It would be impossible to make any one believe that the doctor had not drawn the five thousand dollars from the bank for the purpose of paying his note in New York. The witness appeared to so much better advantage at this time than on the former occasion, that what he had lost then he more than regained now.