Anybody else might have signed himself "John Jones," but the real John
Jones, never!

It would be mighty hard to convince a jury that a man meditating murder
had recorded his correct name for the benefit of the police.

The coincidence was certainly astonishing, but it was in Jones' favor.

They walked over to the office of Allen, Morse & Jones.

Mr. Allen was there.

"Good-morning, Mr. Allen," said Jones, "My name has got me into trouble
again."

"How is that?"

"Did you read about that French restaurant murder last night?"

"Well, I glanced at the story in one of the papers."

"This Frenchman here is a waiter in the place. He saw me in an elevated
train just now, and told this other man, who is a detective, that I was
the party who took that woman to the restaurant.

"That was bad enough, but when they found out what my name was, they
convicted me immediately. It appears that the visitor to the restaurant
signed the very uncommon name of John Jones on the books."

"Why, what the devil!" exclaimed Allen, looking wrathfully at poor