her body, clothed in my garments, that was identified as myself."
"Have you any proof of that fact other than your statement?"
"Yes. Mr. Peter Dumphy, the husband of Mrs. Dumphy, my brother, Gabriel Conroy, and—"
"May it please the Court" (this voice was Arthur Poinsett's, cool, quiet, and languidly patient), "may it please the Court, we of the defense—to save your Honor and the jury some time and trouble—are willing to admit this identification of our client as Gabriel Conroy, and the witness, without further corroboration than her own word, as his sister. Your Honor and the gentlemen of the jury will not fail to recognize in the evidence of our client as to his own name and origin, a rash, foolish, and, on behalf of myself and my colleague, I must add, unadvised attempt to save the reputation of the wife he deeply loves, from the equally unadvised and extraneous evidence brought forward by the prosecution. But we must insist, your Honor, that all this is impertinent to the real issue, the killing of Victor Ramirez by John Doe alias Gabriel Conroy. Admitting the facts just testified to by the witness, Grace Conroy, we have no cross-examination to make."
The face of the witness, which had been pale and self-possessed, flushed suddenly as she turned her eyes upon Arthur Poinsett. But that self-contained scamp retained an unmoved countenance as, at Judge Boompointer's unusually gracious instruction that the witness might retire, Grace Conroy left the stand. To a question from the Court, Col. Starbottle intimated that he should offer no further evidence in rebuttal.
"May it please the Court," said Arthur quietly, "if we accept the impeachment by a sister of a brother on trial for his life, without comment or cross-examination, it is because we are confident—legally confident—of showing the innocence of that brother by other means. Recognizing the fact that this trial is not for the identification of the prisoner under any name or alias, but simply upon the issue of the fact, whether he did or did not commit murder upon the body of Victor Ramirez, as specified in the indictment, we now, waiving all other issues, prepare to prove his innocence by a single witness. That this witness was not produced earlier, was unavoidable; that his testimony was not outlined in the opening, was due to the fact that only within the last half-hour had he been within the reach of the mandate of this Court." He would call Henry Perkins!
There was a slight stir among the spectators by the door as they made way to a quaint figure that, clad in garments of a by-gone fashion, with a pale, wrinkled, yellow face, and gray hair from which the dye had faded, stepped upon the stand.
Is a translator of Spanish and searcher of deeds to the Land Commission. Is called an expert. Recognizes the prisoner at the bar. Saw him only once, two days before the murder, in passing over Conroy's Hill. He was sitting on the door-step of a deserted cabin with a little girl by his side. Saw the deceased twice—once when he came to Don Pedro's house in San Francisco to arrange for the forgery of a grant that should invalidate one already held by the prisoner's wife. Saw the deceased again, after the forgery, on Conroy's Hill, engaged in conversation with the prisoner's wife. Deceased appeared to be greatly excited, and suddenly drew a knife and made an attack upon the prisoner's wife. Witness reached forward and interposed in defense of the woman, when the deceased turned upon him in a paroxysm of insane rage, and a struggle took place between them for the possession of the knife, witness calling for help. Witness did not succeed in wresting the knife from the hands of deceased; it required all his strength to keep himself from bodily harm. In the midst of the struggle, witness heard steps approaching, and again called for help. The call was responded to by a voice in broken English, unintelligible to witness,—apparently the voice of a Chinaman. At the sound of the voice and the approach of footsteps, the deceased broke from witness, and, running backward a few steps, plunged the knife into his own breast and fell. Witness ran to his side, and again called for help. Deceased turned upon him with a ghastly smile, and said: "Bring any one here, and I'll accuse you before them of my murder!" Deceased did not speak again, but fell into a state of insensibility. Witness became alarmed, reflecting upon the threat of the deceased, and did not go for help. While standing irresolutely by the body, Mrs. Conroy, the prisoner's wife, came upon him. Confessed to her the details just described, and the threat of the deceased. She advised the instant flight of the witness, and offered to go with him herself. Witness procured a horse and buggy from a livery-stable, and at half-past nine at night took
