But I have some proofs.
You thought you could get all the 'fixed' shells when you knocked Rattleton over in the crowd, pretending you were shot.

But one of them you failed to get.

I have had its contents analyzed by one of the professors of chemistry, and he says that in place of powder, the shell contained a sort of gun-cotton, and that he does not see why the gun was not torn into splinters." "This----" "Just keep still, Agnew, until I am through! I have found the dealer of whom you purchased those shells, and I have found the dealer of whom you procured that gun-cotton!" Again Agnew opened his mouth to protest.

He had stopped pushing the cards about.
"Once you tried to ruin my right arm by injecting into it a preparation that would produce atrophy of the muscles.

I can produce evidence of that, too!" "It's a lie!" Agnew finally gasped.