"Mr. Royce," I whispered hoarsely, "I believe I've solved the puzzle.
Hold Rogers on the stand a few moments until I get back."
He looked up at me astonished; then nodded, as I seized my hat, and
pushed my way through the crowd. Once outside the building, I ran to
the nearest dry-goods house--three blocks away it was, and what
fearfully long blocks they seemed!--then back again to the courtroom.
Rogers was still on the stand, but a glance at Mr. Royce told me that
he had elicited nothing new.
"You take him, Lester," he said, as I sat down beside him. "I'm worn
out."
Quivering with apprehension, I arose. It was the first time I had been
given the center of the stage in so important a case. Here was my
opportunity! Suppose my theory should break down, after all!
"Mr. Rogers," I began, "you've been having some trouble with your
eyes, haven't you?"
He looked at me in surprise.
"Why, yes, a little," he said. "Nothing to amount to anything. How
did you know?"
My confidence had come back again. I was on the right track, then!
"I did not know," I said, smiling for the first time since I had
entered the room. "But I suspected. I have here a number of pieces of
cloth of different colors. I should like you to pick out the one that
most nearly approximates the color of the gown your visitor wore
yesterday afternoon.
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