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"S'tained!" the judge growled. "Let us get back to the night when you and Mrs. Cheever went a-motoring." Beattie smiled. "There was a beautiful moon on that occasion, I believe." The jury grinned. The word "moon" meant foolishness.
"I will not answer such an insulting question." "I beg your pardon most humbly. Were you registered as the defendant's wife?" McNiven's voice: "I 'bject. There is no evidence witness even saw the book." The judge: "Objection s'tained." "Well, then, Mrs. Cheever, did you see the defendant write in the book?" "I I perhaps I did " "Perhaps you did.
"What did he do?" "Well, he acted plumb loco. He gets down an' hollers. 'Madre de Dios! he hollers. I 'low he wuz plenty scared." "Did he look scared?" "I object," cried Franklin. "S'tained," said the judge. "'Ception," said the prosecuting attorney. "Well, what did the prisoner say or do?" "Why, he crawls aroun' an' hollers. So we roped him, then. But say " "Never mind." "Well, I was "
There is no evidence before the court that there ever was such a fight. The question is incompirrelvimmaterial." "S'tained!" said the judge. Beattie was satisfied. The arrow had been pulled out, but its poison remained. He made use of another of his tantalizing pauses, then: "It was shortly afterward that Mrs. Cheever divorced her husband, was it not?" "I 'bject," McNiven barked.
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