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They heard first the story of the mushroom digger, there of the expedition of Petrosini to Lambertville, of the identification of Torsielli's body, of the elaborate fabrications of Strollo, and in due course, of the tell-tale letter in the murderer's pocket. Gradually the true character of the defendant's crime came over them and they turned from him in aversion.
By and by he went back on the train to Lambertville and smoked and read all the way, contented as the tiger is contented which has tracked down and slain a water-buffalo. The same afternoon about sunset, in a lonely part of Van Cortlandt Park, the mushroom digger stumbled over Torsielli's body lying face downward among the leaves.
Torsielli's pockets were empty save for the band of a "Cremo" cigar in one waistcoat pocket and a tiny slip of paper in another, on which was penciled "Sabbatto Gizzi, P.O. Box 239, Lambertville, New Jersey." Whether this last was the name of the deceased, the murderer, or some one else, no one knew.
The wounds in Strollo's hand and knee were found to correspond in shape and character with the thirty-six wounds in Torsielli's body, and the mushroom digger unhesitatingly identified him as the man in the company of the deceased upon the afternoon of the murder.
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