They're done for.

You must have rooted them out from some closet." "We did; perhaps you can tell us what closet." "I?
No.

What do I know about my old clothes?
I leave that to the women." The slight faltering observable in the latter word conveyed nothing to these men.
"Mr.Cumberland,"-- the district attorney was very serious,--"this hat and this coat, old as they are, were worn into town from your house that night.

This we know, absolutely.

We can even trace them to the club-house." Mechanically, not spontaneously this time, the young man rose to his feet, staring first at the man who had uttered these words, then at the garments which Sweetwater still held in view.