It would have been the same in any case, for Providence would never have allowed his guilty hand to pick out anything but the poison.
"I have little more to say, and it's as well, for I am about done up.
I went on cabbing it for a day or so, intending to keep at it until I could save enough to take me back to America.

I was standing in the yard when a ragged youngster asked if there was a cabby there called Jefferson Hope, and said that his cab was wanted by a gentleman at 221B, Baker Street.

I went round, suspecting no harm, and the next thing I knew, this young man here had the bracelets on my wrists, and as neatly snackled [27] as ever I saw in my life.

That's the whole of my story, gentlemen.

You may consider me to be a murderer; but I hold that I am just as much an officer of justice as you are." So thrilling had the man's narrative been, and his manner was so impressive that we had sat silent and absorbed.