This is the boundary of my property.

I was smoking a cigar at the pavilion over there with a friend when I heard loud voices, followed by a cry and a groan.

I hurried down the steps, and saw this poor fellow lying on the ground, with a knife sticking between his shoulder-blades, and his murderer,' he added, pointing to the man who stood quietly by with Constable McNaught's firm grip upon his shoulder, 'still stooping over the body of his victim.

I was too late, I fear, to save the latter, but just in time to grapple with the assassin--" "'It's a lie!' here interrupted the man hoarsely.

'I didn't do it, constable; I swear I didn't do it.