I.—lb

V

three months to gel me out of it. I am out of it now. I have a very strong will, and no one could hypnotize me now. My brothers and sisters are all in good positions in Australia. I have always been hard up, but I will be a rich man when I publish a book I have written on horticulture and fruitgrowing. I am an expert in fruitgrowing, but there is not much scope for that in New Zealand. There are very lew in New Zealand I could not teach fruitgrowing. My wife's people are well-to-do people beyond Dunedin. About twelve months, ago I took up a fruit-farm at KiuiK'ii, near Helensville, ami I commenced growing tomatoes. I worked from dawn to dark. and on n alight nights 1 worked at night. The crops were a failure. I tried again, and they again failed. I got desperate. I saw the wife and children had not enough to eat and not enough clothing. I often went without food. I saw children coming inheriting my weaknesses —-children who could not take their place in the world, and I proposed to my wife I should go away to Australia—West or South Australia —and that I should send her money and keep away from her, but she would not agree. My wife sleeps badly too. Wben her monthly illnesses are on she does not sleep for nights, and we are both sitting up in bed. Well, seeing n© hope of making a living, and having failed to get assistance from the wife's people and from the person who owned the farm, I determined to end it all and wipe the whole family out. I planned it all. I went to Auckland and bought a revolver and cartridges, and tried it until I understood how to work it. My wife saw no change in me. I determined to shoot her and all the children and then go and give myself up to the police. 1 determined not to shoot myself. I would let the world know how badly, how cruelly we had been treated—l would show them up. So one night I sat up pretending to read. My wife went to bed, and I waited until I was sure she was asleep and I crept to her bed in my stocking feet. She lay on her right side close to the edge of the bed. 1 saw all the children were asleep. Very slowly and gently I slipped my left hand over her heart to feel where it was beating. I had the revolver in my right hand. Then I brought the revolver over her until the muzzle pointed over her heart and I fired. The wife jumped up screaming—there were no neighbours anywhere near. The blood was streaming down her nightdress. I was still determined to finish it. She asked me why I had tried to kill her, and I told her because she and the children had not enough to eat and I had made up my mind to shoot her and the children. She pleaded with me for hours to save her life —she stood with the blood still running down her clothes, but I would not give way. She promised she would never tell on me if I spared her, but I would not give way. At last when I was about to fire again I felt a presence come between us like a wall or a shield, and I knew I was done. I knew I could not fire through that presence. It was some unseen presence that had come between us. So I agreed not to shoot. She made me promise I would never try it again, and I promised. She would not let me keep the revolver, and I had to give it to her. She hid it. Although I was very young when I left home when my father died, I had a good knowledge of doctoring, as he was a chemist. I found the bullet had gone through her left arm at the elbow-joint—she must have moved her arm just as I fired. After passing through the arm it passed through her side, but not deep, and I found the bullet in the bed. It cut an artery in her arm, and I stopped the bleeding and bandaged her up. The wound in the side soon healed, but the wound in the arm showed signs of inflammation. I feared the bullet had driven some cloth into the wound and that it niort ilied. 1 had been afraid to send lor a doctor in case anything should leak out. However, I made up a tale that I knew little of revolvers and that I had been testing one, and it had accidentally gone off and struck the wife. She agreed to this, and I sent to Helensville for Dr. Meinhold. He asked how it happened and I told him about the accident. He complimented me on the skill I had shown in dressing the wound, and prescribed for the wound, which got well, but the scar is still there. I tried to get the revolver from the wife afterwards, as I wanted to shoot rabbits and other things, but she would never give it to me, and when we left the house I believe the wife threw the revolver down between the lining and outer wall. It was last Easter when I shot the wife. While in the hospital here I am sure I gave away my secret under chloroform. I heard the nurses talking about it. I have worried about it and do not know what to do. I still think I will clear out to Australia, but I would send money to the wife. I am sure others know about the secret; the doctors will know, and I have come to give myself up. Could Ibe hung for this? The wife would not give evidence. You will get nothing out of her." Sergeant Wohlmann states that Johnston appeared very agitated, cried, and seemed to be thoroughly run down. It was ascertained that he was being treated by Dr. Craig, who said he thought Johnston was improving. It was evident that he was becoming more and more distressed as the inquest on Evans proceeded, and he referred to his mental strain and anxiety on several occasions. At the conclusion of the inquest, on the 14th December, he met Sergeant Wohlmann and asked for his witness's expenses; he said he was going away " Katikati way "; that he had no friends there, had never been there before, and did not know what he was going to do when he got there. The sergeant pointed out that he had sure work at the mine, but he said he was tired of the mine and that he might go to South Australia later on. Feeling satisfied that Johnston required attention, and on the pretext of settling his witness's expenses, the sergeant took him to the police-station and arranged with the Clerk of the Court to have him medically examined, with the result that Doctors Craig and Galligan were communicated with. Johnston again repeated his account of being hypnotized, of the shooting, and of his epileptic attacks to Dr. Craig, but not to Dr. Galligan. The doctors paid a visit to Mrs. Johnston and satisfied themselves of the reality of the attempt to murder her. Sergeant Wohlmann had previously interviewed Mrs. Johnston, and although she would not admit that she was shot she would not deny it, but said that if any charge was made she would deny her husband had made any attempt to harm her. The sergeant states that he has no doubt as to Johnston's mental disorder at the time of his committal to the mental hospital, that Johnston's mind was overwrought with his secret, and that the strain of the previous few weeks acting on his highly strung and emotional temperament