"But this is an outrage! This is convicting my client of murder without giving him a chance to defend himself. It's a great game these two lawyers are playing! They start prosecuting some other man for murder, and then they convict my client of it and I can't do anything because they don't object."

Despite himself, Judge Pennymaker smiled. "It is rather an ironical situation, Counselor," he said, "but there can be no question concerning its legality. You will sit down and refrain from interrupting the proceedings."

"But he shouldn't answer. He'll get himself into trouble. I advise him not to…"

This time there was no smile on the Judge's face.

"You'll sit down and keep quiet," he said, "or you'll be ejected from the courtroom and fined for contempt. Now, which will it be?"

Slowly, Nat Shuster sat down.

"And you'll remain seated and remain quiet," Judge Pennymaker ordered, then turned to the witness. "Answer the question," he said. "That is, unless there's an objection by Counsel for the defendant. If there is such an objection, I will sustain it as the question calls for hearsay evidence too remote to be a part of the res gestae."

"No objection in the world," Mason remarked urbanely.

Shuster halfarose from the chair, then sat back with a pathetic air of dejection.

Frank Oafley said slowly, "My wife told me that on the night of the fire she was walking past the garage. She saw Samuel Laxter sitting in an automobile, with a hose running from the exhaust to the hot air pipe which furnished heat to my grandfather's room."

"Was the motor running?" Truslow asked.

"She said the motor was running."

"Were there any indications that the motor had been running for some time?"

"Yes, there were no lights on in the garage until she switched them on, yet the hour was long after dark."

"Did she," asked Truslow, "tell you to whom else she had told this story?"

"Yes, she did."

"To whom?"

"To Perry Mason, the attorney, and to Douglas Keene, the defendant."

"That's all," Truslow said. "You may crossexamine, Counselor."

Perry Mason remarked, almost conversationally, "I believe you'd been with her until just before she discovered Samuel Laxter in the automobile on the night of the fire?"

"That's right. She and I had been walking and… making plans for the future." The witness broke off abruptly, averted his eyes. A spasm of expression crossed his face. He seemed fighting to control himself, then he looked back to confront Perry Mason and said, in a voice which was harsh with emotion, "I was afraid my grandfather wouldn't approve of the match. Our meetings were surreptitious, but we had planned to be married just as soon as we could."

"Now, was she absolutely certain that the person seated in the automobile was Samuel Laxter?" Mason inquired.

"Yes, I think she was," Oafley said, "although she did say that she didn't see his face clearly. Sam Laxter wears a rather distinctive type of hat, and she saw that very plainly."

"Did he speak to her?"

"Yes, he spoke to her, and she thought the voice was that of Sam Laxter, although, when I asked her about it, she remembered that the voice had been rather muffled because the man had been slumped over the steering wheel, apparently in an intoxicated condition."

"Do you know of any motive that Sam Laxter might have had for murdering his grandfather?"

"Why, yes, of course. There was the will."

"Do you know of any motive he might have had for murdering Charles Ashton?"

Over at the counsel table, Nat Shuster went through an elaborate pantomime of registering extreme protest, but remembering the judicial admonition, he remained seated and kept silent.

"No, I don't," Oafley said.

"Do you know where Sam Laxter was when Ashton was murdered?"

"No, I don't."

"Where were you at the time?"

"You mean at the time Ashton was murdered?"

"Yes."

"I was with Edith DeVoe."

"Getting married?" Mason inquired.

The witness showed that the subject was very painful to him.

"I think the time of the murder has been established as just after the ceremony," he said.

"I'm sorry to have opened up the wound," Perry Mason told him kindly. "I think that's all."

"That's all," Truslow said.

Shuster looked hopefully at the Court, but Judge Pennymaker avoided his gaze. "That's all," he said.

Truslow turned to give Perry Mason a fraternal wink. "Call Thelma Pixley," he said.

Thelma Pixley came forward and was sworn.

"Do you know the defendant in this case?"

"Very well."

"Did you see him on the twentythird the night Charles Ashton was murdered?"

"I did."

"What did he do?… I will state to the Court and Counsel that this is merely for the purpose of fixing a motive for the subsequent murder of Edith DeVoe. I think the fact that the caretaker's crutch was found in the apartment of Edith DeVoe indicates…"

"No objection whatever," Perry Mason interrupted. "The witness may answer the question."

"Answer the question," Judge Pennymaker instructed.

"I saw the defendant's automobile come up the driveway. He circled the house then went back below the garage and parked the car. I expected he would ring the bell and I waited to let him in, but he had a key to the back door. I saw him go in. I wondered what he was doing, so I went to my door and listened. He walked down the stairs, and I heard him open the door of Charles Ashton's room."

"Do you know how long he stayed there?"

"I saw him leave."

"What time was it when he arrived?"

"Just before ten."

"When did he leave?"

"It was just a few minutes after eleven."

"As much as five minutes after eleven?"

"I don't think so. The clock had struck eleven just before—I don't think more than a minute or two before I saw him leaving."

"Was he carrying anything with him?"

"A cat."

"Could you see the cat clearly?"

"It was Clinker."

"That's the caretaker's cat?"

"Yes."

"Would you know that cat if you saw it again?"

"Certainly."

Truslow motioned to a bailiff who had evidently been waiting for the signal. The bailiff stepped through the door to an anteroom and shortly emerged, carrying a big Persian cat, about the neck of which was affixed a tag.

"Is this the cat?"

"That's Clinker, yes."

"Your Honor," Truslow said, smiling at Perry Mason, "let it appear that the witness identifies the Persian cat, about the neck of which is affixed a tag bearing the words 'Clinker' and the initials 'H.B., in the handwriting of Hamilton Burger, the district attorney."

Judge Pennymaker nodded.

Truslow turned to Perry Mason and said, "Crossexamine."

"Could you see the cat clearly enough to identify it?" Mason inquired.

"Yes," the witness snapped belligerently. "I'd know Clinker anywhere—even if they had let you substitute cats, I could have picked Clinker out…"

Judge Pennymaker pounded with his gavel. The courtroom broke into laughter.

"That last remark may be stricken from the records," Judge Pennymaker suggested to Perry Mason.

Mason nodded. He seemed to have lost interest in the proceedings.

"No further questions," he said.

"Call James Brandon," Truslow instructed the bailiff.

James Brandon, his face seeming to leer sardonically because of the distinctive scar, came forward and was sworn.

"You're employed by Mr. Samuel Laxter?" Truslow asked.

"And by Mr. Oafley," Brandon said. "I'm employed as chauffeur and butler."

"And were so employed on the night of the twentythird?"

"Yes."

"Did you have occasion to see the defendant on that night?"

"I did."

"Where?"

"Just below the garage of the Laxter house."

"Did you see his car parked near there?"