I asked him how he knew.

He said he recognized the mark on the butt where the varnish had been chafed away.
Then I handed the hunting knife I had borrowed from to the police officer and demanded that he have the bullet cut out of the buck's carcass.

The court could not object to that, so under the eyes of at least fifty witnesses a flattened Mauser bullet was produced.

I called attention to the fact that my rifle was a Lee-Enfield that could not possibly have fired a Mauser bullet.

The court was young and very dignified--examined the bullet and my rifle--and had to be convinced.
"Very well," was the verdict on that count, "it is proved that you did not shoot this particular buck, unless the police have evidence that you used a different rifle." The policeman confessed that he had no evidence along that line, so the first charge was dismissed.
"But you are charged," said the magistrate, "with carrying an unregistered rifle, and shooting without a license." For answer I produced my certificate of registration and the big game license we had paid for in Mombasa.
"Why didn't you say so before ?" demanded the magistrate.
"I wasn't asked," said I.
"Case dismissed!" snapped his honor, and the court began to empty.
"Don't let it stop there!" urged Will excitedly.