Detective Bob Bridger — page 191: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

184 DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. ‘“‘Please state,” began the coroner, when the old doctor had been sworn, ‘‘if you know personally Alfonse Godot ?” “IT do. Alfonse Godot married my daughter Alice. I re- cently accompanied him from Madras to London.” “Ts this man Alfonse Godot?” demanded the coroner, pointing toward the dignified invalid. “He is not.” “Please look at the body and see if you can identify it.” Dr. Macy moved slowly forward, leaning on Bridger’ S arm, and as if he dreaded the spectacle. , As his eyes fell upon the features of the dead he groaned heavily, clasped his hands to his head in agony of horror, staggered aside, and would have fallen had not Bridger caught him. ‘““Great Heaven” he cried, in a hoarse whisper. “It is too true—too true. It is Alfonse Godot—murdered.” - Annette became pale as death and fell sobbing in the Scotch detective’s arms. ‘““What pantomine is this?” demanded Videre, rising suddenly in anger. ‘‘What woes these people may have I know not, nor want to know. Idemand that I be at once released from custody.” ‘There is evidently either a painful mistake or cleverly planned conspiracy at work here,” said the attorney, ad- dressing the coroner. ‘‘But there is no proof that either of these prisoners was ever in the company of the deceased, much less that they are in any way implicated in his death. The high indorsement of the British Minister at Ae a Pe ao = 4. res (, ae? » § a" a o* Washington offsets the oath of this man Goucher, whose — appearance alone is sufficient to nullify his statement : and I therefore demand the prompt exoneration of these gentlemen.”’ ‘“Gentlemen,” said Dr. Macy, solemnly, his pale features, gray hair, and earnest utterance impressing the jurors that he spoke the truth, ‘‘I must ask you, in the name of jus- tice, to hold these men. I understand this case fully, and even know that this man here dead is Alfonse Godot, so do I believe that one of these prisoners is his murderer, and the other a base impostor in his service.” | ‘‘T have here,” said the Scotch detective, ‘‘a miniature of Alfonse Godot and his wife, Alice. The portraits were taken some twenty years past, but I will ask you to look well at them, and see which of the two faces the male pictures resemble most, and if the lady’s picture does nob resemble the young lady j in my arms,” -— —*/ Comick p00ks.co com eae Seat os ' jm