"Is the defendant ready?"
Answer: "He is."
"Then let the case proceed."
The genial clerk, Hendricks, for many years probably the most popular man in Indiana, began, "If it please your Honor, I shall read the information." And then went on to do so, rolling off big words in a sonorous voice, declaring that "'the aforesaid Jerry Cobbler, in the State of Indiana, on the twenty-fifth day of June, 1816, at the town of Corydon, did then and there take and carry away a certain stone knife, said stone knife being then and there the personal goods of one Obadiah Holman, with the felonious intent then and there to deprive the said Obadiah Holman thereof, against the peace and dignity of the State of Indiana.'"
"Guilty or not guilty?"
"Not guilty."
Thereupon the witnesses were sworn to testify to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
All eyes turned on Doby. He was seized by bashfulness and by the bailiff. Between the two he went through his examination with small credit to himself. He was glad to get back to his seat. He listened to the other witnesses, then to the counsel for the defense, and then to the prosecutor again. It was hard for him to follow the arraignment and the defendant's plea.
"I can see the tracks of a badger better than I can the steps of the law. What's the use of all this talk?" he thought. "Everybody knows that Jerry stole the stuff even if he did say 'Not guilty.' They ought to take it from him, hand it to the owners, give him a lickin' and get back home to supper."
The written law of a State requires that a trial by judge shall go through a certain legal form; the unwritten law of the people of a State demands that a trial shall be dramatic and entertaining. Only thus can the people's power and the force of their justice be shown to them as upon a stage. So this trial had followed the usual course.