He acknowledged that it was his, but could no more account for its presence in the path than the coroner himself.
"When do you remember having seen it last?" the coroner inquired.
Radnor pondered. "I remember lending it to Mrs. Mathers when she was building a fire in the woods to make the coffee; after that I don't remember anything about it."
"How do you account for its presence at the scene of the murder?"
"I can only conjecture that it must have dropped from my pocket without my noticing it on my way out of the cave."
The coroner observed that it was an unfortunate coincidence that he had dropped it in just that particular spot.
This effectually stopped Radnor's testimony.
Not another word could be elicited from him on the subject, and he was finally dismissed and Mrs. Mathers called to the stand.
She remembered borrowing the match box, but then someone had called her away and she could not remember what she had done with it.
She thought she must have returned it because she always did return things, but she was not at all sure.
Very possibly she had kept it, and dropped it herself on her way out of the cave.
It was evident that she did not wish to say anything which would incriminate Radnor; and she was really too perturbed to remember what she had done.
Several other people were questioned, but no further light could be thrown on the subject of the match box; and so it remained in the end, as it had been in the beginning, merely a very nasty piece of circumstantial evidence.
This ended the hearing for the day, and the inquest was postponed until ten o'clock the following morning.
So far, no word had been dropped touching the ha'nt, but I was filled with apprehension as to what the next day would bring forth.
I knew that if the subject came up, it would end once for all Radnor's chances of escaping trial before the grand jury.
And that would mean, at the best, two months more of prison.
What it would mean at the worst I did not like to consider.
CHAPTER XIV THE JURY'S VERDICT
My first glance about the room the next morning, showed me only too plainly what direction the inquiry was going to take.
In the farther corner half hidden by Mattison's broad back sat Clancy, the Washington detective.
I recognized him with an angry feeling of discouragement.
If we were to have his version of the stolen bonds, Radnor's last hope of gaining public sympathy was gone.
Radnor was the first person to be called to the stand.
He had not noticed the detective, and I did not have a chance to inform him of his presence.
The coroner plunged immediately into the question of the robbery and the ha'nt, and it was only too evident from Radnor's troubled eyes that it was a subject he did not wish to talk about.
"You have recently had a robbery at your house, Mr. Gaylord?"
"Yes."
"Please describe just what was stolen."
"Five bonds—Government four per cents—a bag of coin—about twenty dollars in all—and two deeds and an insurance policy."
"You have not been able to trace the thief?"
"No."
"In spite of every effort?"
"Well, we naturally looked into the matter."
"But you have been able to form no theory as to how the bonds were stolen?"
"No, I have no theory whatever."
"You employed a detective I believe?"
"Yes."
"And he arrived at no theory?"
Radnor hesitated visibly while he framed an answer.
"He arrived at no theory which successfully covered the facts."
"But he did have a theory as to the whereabouts of the bonds, did he not?"
"Yes—but it was without any foundation and I prefer not to go into it."
The coroner abandoned the point. "Mr. Gaylord, there has lately been a rumor among the negroes working at your place, in regard to the appearance of a ghost, has there not?"
"Yes."
"Can you offer any light on the subject?"
"The negroes are superstitious and easily frightened, when the rumor of a ghost gets started it grows.
The most of the stories existed only in their own imaginations."
"You believe then that there was no foundation whatever to any of the stories?"
"I should rather not go into that."