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Updated: July 9, 2025
Indeed, it had been with this end in view that Goodlaw had made his cross-examination of Craft so thorough and severe. He had shown, as he intended to, from the man's own lips that he was unfit to have possession either of the child or of his property. This danger was now making itself more and more apparent to Sharpman.
The witness was turned over to the defence for cross-examination. "No questions," said Goodlaw, shortly, gathering up his papers as if his defeat was already an accomplished fact. "Mr. Craft," said Sharpman, "stand up right where you are. I want to ask you one question. Did the child whom you rescued from the wreck have on, when you found him, this cap, cloak, and locket?" "He did."
Old Simon sat staring at the boy incredulously. His anger had changed for the moment into wonder. He could not understand the cause of Ralph's action. Sharpman had not told him of the interview with Rhyming Joe he had not thought it advisable. "Who are you, then?" inquired Goodlaw. "I'm Simon Craft's grandson." The excitement in the room ran higher.
Goodlaw had hardly dared to expect anything else. There was nothing for him to do but to acquiesce in the ruling of the court. Ralph turned to face him with a question on his lips. "Mr. Goodlaw," he said, "ain't they goin' to let me tell what I heard Rhymin' Joe say?" "I am afraid not, Ralph; the court has ruled that conversation out."
Goodlaw, who had been, during this time, holding a whispered conversation with Ralph, arose, bowed to the court, and turned to face the jurors.
"I went, the very next day," was the reply, "to Robert Burnham to tell him that his son was living." "What conversation did you have with him?" "I object," interposed Goodlaw, "to evidence of any alleged conversation between this witness and Robert Burnham. Counsel should know better than to ask for it." "The question is not a proper one," said the judge.
He had been considering whether it would be safe and wise for him to go on the witness-stand and deny any portion of Ralph's story. He had reached the conclusion that it would not. The risk was too great. "Very well," said the judge, taking up his pen, "then the evidence is closed. Mr. Goodlaw, are you ready to go to the jury?"
His heart gave a great throb, and he started to his feet. The gentleman was saying: "I trust you will reach home safely and comfortably." And Mrs. Burnham replied: "Oh, there is no doubt of it, Mr. Goodlaw! I have telegraphed to James to meet us at the station; we shall be there before nine o'clock."
Down in the bar the attorneys sat chatting familiarly and pleasantly with one another. Sharpman was there, and Craft was at his elbow. Goodlaw was there, and Mrs. Burnham sat in her accustomed place. The crier opened court in a voice that could be heard to the farthest end of the room, though few of the listeners understood what his "Oyez! oyez! oyez!" was all about.
The lady was sitting with her veil across her face, smiling now and then, wiping away a tear or two, listening carefully to catch every word. Then the witness was turned over to the counsel for the defence, for cross-examination. "What else has the boy done or said to make you think he is of gentler birth than his companions in the breaker?" asked Goodlaw, somewhat sarcastically.
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