“It is impossible, then, to trace him?” asked Moon.
“Impossible,” repeated the specialist, shutting his eyes.
“You are sure it’s impossible?”
“Oh dry up, Michael,” cried Gould, irritably. “We’d ‘ave found ‘im if we could, for you bet ‘e saw the burglary. Don’t you start looking for ‘im. Look for your own ‘ead in the dustbin. You’ll find that—after a bit,” and his voice died away in grumbling.
“Arthur,” directed Michael Moon, sitting down, “kindly read Mr. Raymond Percy’s letter to the court.”
“Wishing, as Mr. Moon has said, to shorten the proceedings as much as possible,” began Inglewood, “I will not read the first part of the letter sent to us. It is only fair to the prosecution to admit the account given by the second clergyman fully ratifies, as far as facts are concerned, that giv
