Mr. Esdale Moore laughed in his big, hearty voice.
"With your reputation, Abner, and that of Squire Randolph in Virginia, I should refuse to receive it."
"Alas," continued Abner, "we are no better than other men. A certain experience, some knowledge of the habits of criminals, and a little skill in observation are the only advantages we have. If one were born among us with, let us say, a double equipment of skull space, no criminal would ever escape him."
"He would laugh at us, Abner," said the Justice.
"He would never cease to laugh," returned my uncle, "but he would laugh the loudest at the bungling criminal. To him, the most cunning crime would be a botch; fabricated events would be conspicuous patch-work, and he would see the identity of the criminal agent in a thousand evidences."
He hesitated a moment; then he added:
"Fortunately for human society, the inconsistency of false evidence is usually so glaring that any one of us is able to see it."
"As in Lord William Russell's case," said the Justice, "where the valet, having killed his master in such a manner as to create the aspect of suicide, inadvertently carried away the knife with which his victim was supposed to have cut his own throat."
"Precisely," said Abner. "And there is, I think, in every case something equally inconsistent, if we only look close enough to find it."
He turned to Mr. Esdale Moore.
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