“Did he mention the name of the lady, Mr. Blanton?” asked the coroner, washing the backs of his hands with the palms.

“No.”

“Or his business with her?”

“No.  But he seemed to be annoyed.”  Mr. Blanton also seemed to be annoyed.  He had considered not mentioning this appointment, but his conscience would not let him hide it.  None the less he resented the need of giving the public more scandal about a fellow club member who was dead.  He added an explanation.  “My feeling was that it was some business matter being forced on him.  He had been at Colorado Springs during the day and probably had been unable to see the lady earlier.”

“Did he say so?”

“No-o, not exactly.”

“What did he say to give you that impression?”

“I don’t recall his words.”

“Or the substance of them?”

“No.  I had the impression, very strongly.”

The coroner reproved him tartly.  “Please confine your testimony to facts and not to impressions, Mr. Blanton.  Do you know at what time Mr. Cunningham left the City Club?”

“At 8.45.”

“Precisely?”

“Precisely.”

“That will do.”

Exit Mr. Blanton from the chair and from the room, very promptly and very eagerly.

He was followed by a teller at the Rocky Mountain National Bank.  He testified to only two facts—­that he knew Cunningham and that the promoter had drawn two thousand dollars in bills on the day of his death.

A tenant at the Paradox Apartments was next called to the stand.  The assistant district attorney examined him.  He brought out only one fact of importance—­that he had seen Cunningham enter the building at a few minutes before nine o’clock.

The medical witnesses were introduced next.  The police surgeon had reached the apartment at 10.30.  The deceased had come to his death, in his judgment, from the effect of a bullet out of a .38 caliber revolver fired into his brain.  He had been struck a blow on the head by some heavy instrument, but this in itself would probably not have proved fatal.

“How long do you think he had been dead when you first saw him?”

“Less than an hour.”  Answering questions, the police surgeon gave the technical medical reasons upon which he based this opinion.  He described the wound.

The coroner washed the backs of his hands with his palms.  Observing reporters noticed that he did this whenever he intended taking the examination into his own hands.

“Did anything peculiar about the wound impress you?” he asked.

“Yes.  The forehead of the deceased was powder-marked.”

“Showing that the weapon had been fired close to him?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else?”

“One thing.  The bullet slanted into the head toward the right.”

“Where was the chair in which the deceased was seated?  I mean in what part of the room.”