"You say he swore at you for being slow?" the coroner asked.
Jake nodded with a grin. "I don't remember just the words—I get swore at so much that it don't make the impression it might—but it was good straight cussin' all right."
"And he struck you as being agitated?"
Jake's grin broadened. "I think you might say agitated," he admitted guardedly. "He was mad enough to begin with, an' now the brandy was gettin' to work.
Besides, he was in an all-fired hurry to leave before the rest o' the party come back, an' while I was bringin' out the horse, he heard 'em laughin'.
They wasn't in sight yet, but they was makin' a lot o' noise.
One o' the girls had stepped on a snake an' was squealin' loud enough to hear her two miles off."
"And Gaylord left before any of them saw him?"
The boy nodded. "He got off all right.
'You forgot to pay for your horse,' I yelled after him, and he threw me fifty cents and it landed in the watering-trough."
This ended his testimony.
Several members of the picnic party were next called upon, and nothing very damaging to Radnor was produced.
He seemed to be in his usual spirits before entering the cave, and no one, it transpired, had seen him after he came out, though this was not noted at the time.
Also, no one had noticed him in conversation with his father.
The coroner dwelt upon this point, but elicited no information one way or the other.
Polly Mathers was not present.
She had been subp?naed, but had become too ill and nervous to stand the strain, and the doctor had forbidden her attendance.
The coroner, however, had taken her testimony at the house, and his clerk read it aloud to the jury.
It dealt merely with the matter of the coat and where she had last seen Radnor.
"Question. 'Did you notice anything peculiar in the behavior of Radnor Gaylord on the day of his father's death?'
"Answer. 'Nothing especially peculiar—no.'
"Q. 'Did you see any circumstance which led you to suspect that he and his father were not on good terms?'
"A. 'No, they both appeared as usual.'
"Q. 'Did you speak to Radnor in the cave?'
"A. 'Yes, we strolled about together for a time and he was carrying my coat.
He laid it down on the broken column and forgot it.
I forgot it too and didn't think of it again until we were out of the cave.
Then I happened to mention it in Colonel Gaylord's presence, and I suppose he went back for it.'
"Q. 'You didn't see Radnor Gaylord after he left the cave?'
"A. 'No, I didn't see him after we left the gallery of the broken column.
The guide struck off a calcium light to show us the formation of the ceiling.
We spent about five minutes examining the room, and after that we all went on in a group.
Radnor had not waited to see the room, but had gone on ahead in the direction of the entrance.'"
So much for Polly's testimony—which added nothing.
Solomon, frightened almost out of his wits, was called on next, and his testimony brought out the matter of the quarrel between Colonel Gaylord and Radnor.
Solomon told of finding the French clock, and a great many things besides which I am sure he made up.
I wished to have his testimony ruled out, but the coroner seemed to feel that it was suggestive—as it undoubtedly was—and he allowed it to remain.
Radnor himself was next called to the stand.
As he took his place a murmur of excitement swept over the room and there was a general straining forward.
He was composed and quiet, and very very sober—every bit of animation had left his face.
The coroner commenced immediately with the subject of the quarrel with his father on the night before the murder, and Radnor answered all the questions frankly and openly.
He made no attempt to gloss over any of the details.
What put the matter in a peculiarly bad light, was the fact that the cause of the quarrel had been over a question of money.
Rad had requested his father to settle a definite amount on him so that he would be independent in the future, and his father had refused.
They had lost their tempers and had gone further than usual; in telling the story Radnor openly took the blame upon himself where, in several instances, I strongly suspected that it should have been laid at the door of the Colonel.
But in spite of the fact that the story revealed a pitiable state of affairs as between father and son, his frankness in assuming the responsibility won for him more sympathy than had been shown since the murder.
"How did the clock get broken?" the coroner asked.
"My father knocked it off the mantelpiece onto the floor."
"He did not throw it at you as Solomon surmised?"
Radnor raised his head with a glint of anger.