otterhound blood in it couldn't technically be considered a
bloodhound. I forget how the matter was ultimately settled, but it
aroused a tremendous amount of acrimonious discussion on both sides
of the Atlantic. My own contribution to the controversy consisted
in pointing out that the whole dispute was beside the mark, as the
actual murderer had not yet been captured; but I soon discovered
that on this point there was not the least divergence of public or
expert opinion. I had looked forward apprehensively to the proving
of my identity and the establishment of my motives as a disagreeable
necessity; I speedily found out that the most disagreeable part of
the business was that it couldn't be done. When I saw in the glass
the haggard and hunted expression which the experiences of the past
few weeks had stamped on my erstwhile placid countenance, I could
scarcely feel surprised that the few friends and relations I
possessed refused to recognise me in my altered guise, and persisted
in their obstinate but widely shared belief that it was I who had
been done to death on the highway. To make matters worse,
infinitely worse, an aunt of the really murdered man, an appalling
female of an obviously low order of intelligence, identified me as
her nephew, and gave the authorities a lurid account of my depraved
youth and of her laudable but unavailing efforts to spank me into a
better way. I believe it was even proposed to search me for
fingerprints."

"But," said the Chaplain, "surely your educational attainments--"

"That was just the crucial point," said the condemned; "that was
where my lack of specialisation told so fatally against me. The
dead Salvationist, whose identity I had so lightly and so
disastrously adopted, had possessed a veneer of cheap modern