"
I handed him the bundle of samples, and as I did so, I saw the
district attorney lean forward over his desk with attentive face. The
witness looked through the samples slowly, while I watched him with
feverish eagerness. Mr. Royce had caught an inkling of my meaning and
was watching him, too.
"There's nothing here," said Rogers, at last, "which seems quite the
shade. But this is very near it."
He held up one of the pieces. With leaping heart, I heard the gasp of
astonishment which ran around the room. The jurymen were leaning
forward in their chairs.
"And what is the color of that piece?" I asked.
"Why, dark red. I've stated that already."
I glanced triumphantly at the coroner.
"Your honor," I said, as calmly as I could, "I think we've found the
flaw in the chain. Mr. Rogers is evidently color-blind. As you see,
the piece he has selected is a dark green."
The whole audience seemed to draw a deep breath, and a little clatter
of applause ran around the room. I could hear the scratch, scratch of
the reporters' pencils--here was a situation after their hearts'
desire! Mr. Royce had me by the hand, and was whispering brokenly in
my ear.
"My dear fellow; you're the best of us all; I'll never forget it!"
But Rogers was staring in amazement from me to the cloth in his hand,
and back again.
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