“That I have perjured myself?” “You have.” “Very well, Mr. Birch; and I thank you for your candor in stating just what you mean. Now, grant for a moment that I have been base enough to falsify the truth--assume it for a moment.” “Assume it for a moment,” repeated Dick, with a significant smile. “Should you expect a man who had made and sworn to certain statements, to retract them, merely upon your invitation to do so?” “Not unless he were to obtain some advantage by doing so.” “Precisely, Mr. Birch. Now, assuming still that I have not told the truth, what advantage should I gain by retracting?” “Now I understand you, Dr. Lynch; and I am ready to meet your views.” “Of course we only assume that I have not told the truth.” “Of course; but I shall take the liberty to answer your question just as though it were an actual state of things. What are you to gain?” “What should I gain, if the case were real, instead of supposed?” “Not much, perhaps. I must be vindicated; therefore you must confess, on the stand, that you were the person with Buckstone just before he was killed.” “That would ruin me.” “It will ruin me if you don’t. If you were there for a good purpose, it will not injure you any more than it has me.” “I should gain nothing by this.” “If you tell the whole truth, voluntarily, you will gain much in the estimation of honest men. And the lawyers will spare you. All this matter is really foreign to Ross Kingman’s case. It has nothing whatever to do with it.” “Why was it brought in, then?” “Because the person with Buckstone is an important witness. If I had testified that I was the man, I should simply have been required to tell what I knew of the murder. If I had known nothing, that would have been the end. If you were the stranger, you can tell what you know about it. If it implicates you in the murder, you need not criminate yourself.” “We are only assuming a case,” interposed the doctor. “Certainly--if you please.” “What questions would be asked of me?” “Were you the person with Buckstone?” “I was,” replied the doctor, with a sickly smile. “Let us suppose we are in court; I am on the stand, and you are Mr. Lowe.” “Did you see the murder committed?” “I did not.” “Did you know a murder had been committed?” “I did. Of course you understand, Mr. Birch, that we are merely supposing a case.” “What did you do?” “I went down to the cliff in the boat, and found the body.” “Was life extinct?” “It was.” “What did you do with the body?” “I took it back to the beach.” “Did you remove the head?” “I did.” Dick Birch began to be very much excited, when the doctor again called his attention to the fact that they were merely supposing a case. “Why did you remove the head?” continued Dick. “I wanted it for dissection. One of my patients was sick with brain fever, and I wished to study the case with a real brain.” “Did you dissect it?” “I did.” “Where?” “In my office, that night.” “Where is the head now?”