An Unseen Witness. ble slab, like this — " Wetting his forefinger in his mouth, he showed the court how he turned the corner of each one of the bills when he counted the money. " I passed it to the deacon in hundreds, he counting it after me. When I had finished he took out of his inside waistcoat-pocket a big wallet, and from it he took the note and passed it to me" (Here the deacon arose; with both canes in his hands raised above his head, he shouted in his trembling voice, " Before God it is a lie! ") This aroused every one in the court-room; but the confusion was stopped by the sheriff calling them to order and threatening to clear the court. Taylor con tinued with his testimony : — "And I took this very bunch of keys out of my pocket, walked to the stove door, lifted up the latch, and threw the note into the fire. That is all I know about the note." They cross-examined him on each subject, and his answers did not vary from his first account. The next witness was " Bill" Thompson, Taylor's former clerk, — the same voice I had heard in the room the night before with Taylor. He was a thin boy, with a scared look upon his face. He testified that he had come from Bath the night before, and had reached C that very moming. He did not know why Taylor wanted him to come; but he received a tele gram from him, and supposing it was im portant, came at once. "I have not seen Taylor," said he, " except in the court this morning. I was his clerk up to July ist, and remember perfectly well the 4th of March, when Deacon Sanborn came into the shop to collect this note. The money had been in the snuff-jar for over two weeks in the back office; and when I was n't watching it, Mr. Taylor was. I stood behind the prescription counter when Deacon San born came into the shop, and I saw Taylor pay him a lot of money. The deacon took a piece of paper out of his big wallet and passed it to Taylor, who opened the stove door and put it in. Of course I don't know
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whether it was the note or not, but it was something in exchange for that money." In the cross-examination he was asked what the weather was on the 4th of March, where upon he replied : " It was pleasant, with snow on the ground; but the sun came in and out from behind the clouds, and I re member perfectly well, as the deacon went out of the door, the sun came from behind the clouds and shone on his white head, and I said to myself, ' There won't many more suns shine on that old head.' " This seemed to clinch his testimony as being true, and a glance at the people showed that they believed it. I was so astounded at the testimony of the two men, I made up my mind to expose them; but just then the judge arose and said it was one o'clock, and the court would adjourn, and re-open at three that afternoon. The crowd immediately dispersed; and through a lack of coura'ge on my part, I kept silence. Return ing to the hotel for dinner, I found I could not eat, and left the table and went to my room. As I entered, the draught which was made by the window and door being open blew the page of the book upon which my memoranda of the night before were written, so that it flapped from one side to the other of the magazine. It reminded me so forci bly of what I ought to tell and what I had not the courage to do, that I grabbed the maga zine and stuffed it into my valise. The va lise and umbrella I took to the coat-room and checked, and then walked up and down the corridor of the hotel waiting for the stage to take me to the depot. At twenty minutes of three I noticed two gentlemen enter the front door; and as one of them came forward I recognized him. Grasping my hand, he said : " Blake, I promised you I would not tell what you told me this morning in my office of the conversation you heard last night; but in the horse-car coming down from lunch just now, I met Mr. Brown, the lawyer, and I asked him if he knew of any such case in the court-house. He drew out of me one fact after another; and then he
