"Are you making an accusation?" Lucas flared.

Judge Markham said slowly, "That will do, gentlemen. We'll discuss the matter later. You have raised your voices and it is possible for the jurors to hear what we are discussing."

"I am going to move," Perry Mason said in a low voice, "to have the jury instructed to disregard the ringing of that doorbell."

Lucas laughed, and his laugh was triumphant.

"You might strike it out of the records," he said, "but you'd never strike it out of the minds of the jurors."

Judge Markham frowned at him, stared at Perry Mason, and said in a low voice, "I'm very sorry it occurred, but undoubtedly the deputy district attorney is correct. Having occurred, there's nothing in particular that can be done about it. You can't erase from the minds of the jurors what they have heard."

"I had the right," Perry Mason said, "to use that as a point in my defense, to argue that it was a physical impossibility for the ringing of a doorbell to have been distinctly audible."

Despite his attempt to keep his features politely expressionless, there was a glint of triumph in John Lucas's eyes. "You can, of course," he said, "still argue the point."

Judge Markham shook his head firmly. "Gentlemen," he said, "this discussion will terminate immediately. If there should be any further discussion, it will take place in court."

John Lucas nodded, moved away. Perry Mason hesitated. The doorbell rang once more in the apartment where the murder had been committed, remained ringing for several seconds. John Lucas ran to the window and shouted, "Shut off that doorbell. The jurors weren't supposed to have heard it ring."

One of the jurors snickered audibly. Perry Mason clamped his lips in a firm, straight line. "Of course," Judge Markham said in a low tone of voice, "if you wish to have an investigation, Counselor, of any possible understanding between the deputy and the district attorney's office…"

Perry Mason's laugh was sarcastic. "You know how much I'd find out," he said bitterly.

Judge Markham retained his judicial impassivity of countenance. "Is there any further inspection to be made?" he asked.

John Lucas shook his head.

"No," Perry Mason said curtly.

"We will then," ordered Judge Markham, "return to court. We can probably take some additional testimony before the evening adjournment."

The jurors elected to walk down the stairs rather than ride in the elevator. Waiting cars whisked them back to the courtroom, where they promptly took their places in the jury box. "Proceed," Judge Markham said.

"I will," said John Lucas, "call Ellen Crandall."

Ellen Crandall had dressed with care for the occasion. She moved forward, conscious of the eyes of the crowded courtroom. Her face held a fixed expression, an expression which evidently had been carefully practiced for the occasion. It was as though she wished the spectators to understand her appreciation of the gravity of the occasion, as well as the importance of the testimony she was about to give. Under the questioning of John Lucas, she testified to exactly the same set of facts that her husband had testified to, except that she had, perhaps, been more awake during the time of the struggle. She had heard the sound of the blow more distinctly, and she was positive that she had, following the sound of the blow, heard surreptitious whispers.

The hour for the evening adjournment found John Lucas just completing his direct examination. Perry Mason got to his feet. "After your Honor admonishes the jurors," he said, "I have a matter to take up with Court and counsel which concerns another phase of the case and should probably be discussed in the absence of the jurors."

"Very well," agreed Judge Markham, and, turning to the jury, said, "it appears that the usual hour of evening adjournment has been reached. The Court is not impounding the jury during the trial of this case, but wishes to impress upon you, nevertheless, that you have a responsibility as a part of the machinery of justice. The Court is about to adjourn until ten o'clock tomorrow morning. During that adjournment you will be careful not to discuss this case among yourselves, nor to permit others to discuss it in your presence. You will form or express no opinion concerning the guilt or innocence of the accused. You will refrain from reading any newspaper accounts of the trial, and you will promptly report to the Court any one who seeks to discuss this matter in your presence or any one who makes any advances to you."

The judge's gavel banged upon the marble slab on the top of his bench and the jurors filed from the courtroom.

When the jury had gone, Perry Mason arose and faced Judge Markham. "Your Honor," he said, "Rhoda Montaine has filed suit for divorce against Carl Montaine. In connection with the proper preparation of that case for trial, it has become necessary for me to take the deposition of Carl Montaine; that deposition has been noticed for tomorrow. In order to facilitate matters, I have arranged that the deposition may be taken during the noon recess. It may, however, require a little additional time to complete the deposition, in which event I shall ask the indulgence of the Court."

John Lucas, sneeringly sure of himself, made an impatient gesture. "Counsel well knows," he said, "that the only object of that deposition is to go on a fishing expedition with one of prosecution's witnesses before that witness is put on the stand."

Perry Mason bowed mockingly. "A witness," he said, "who has been wetnursed by the prosecution ever since the death of Gregory Moxley."

"Gentlemen," said Judge Markham, "that will do. Counsel is entitled to take the deposition of the witness if he wishes. That is the law. If the deposition is noticed for tomorrow, it will be taken up tomorrow."

"Under stipulation with the counsel who is representing Carl Montaine," said Perry Mason, "the deposition will be somewhat informal. It will be taken before Miss Della Street, my secretary, who is a notary public as well as an efficient shorthand reporter. Counsel for Carl Montaine and myself will be present. The deposition is a purely civil matter. I do not understand that Counselor Lucas will seek to be present. If…"

"I've got a right to be present if I want to," thundered Lucas.

"You have not," said Perry Mason. "This is purely a civil matter. You do not now appear as civil counsel for Montaine. Therefore it has been necessary for him to retain other counsel. The other counsel agrees with me that this is purely a civil matter, and…"

Judge Markham's gavel again banged on the desk.

"Gentlemen," he said, "this discussion is entirely out of order. Court will suit your convenience tomorrow in the taking of the deposition, Mr. Mason. Court is adjourned."

John Lucas, gloating in the triumph of a day during which he had built up a case against the defendant which Perry Mason had been unable to shake, smiled sneeringly at Mason and said in a voice loud enough to be heard over much of the courtroom, "Well, Mason, you seem to lack much of your usual fire today. You didn't get very far crossexamining the Crandalls about the doorbell, did you?"

Mason said politely, "You forget that I have not finished with my crossexamination."

The answering laugh of John Lucas was taunting.

Perry Mason stopped at a telephone booth and telephoned the hotel where C. Phillip Montaine, the Chicago millionaire, was registered. "Is Mr. Montaine in his room?" he asked.

After a moment he was assured that Mr. Montaine had not as yet returned to his room. "When he returns," said Perry Mason, "please give him a message from Perry Mason. Tell him that if he will arrange to be at my office at seventhirty tomorrow evening I think I can arrange matters with him in regard to a property settlement in his son's divorce case. Will you see that he gets that message?"