"Well, Yer Honor, I runs up and tries to arrest the woman, and the other one—this Rayefsky girl—jumps on me with a blackjack and lays me out, Yer Honor. The first thing I knows I come to, with this gentleman a-helping me up. How long I laid there senseless, Yer Honor, I don't know. I came right over here and got the warrant, and Officer Sheehan and me, we got her at the strike headquarters, like he told Yer Honor."
"Do you wish to question the witness, Mr. Braun?"
"Brennan," he began, "did you see a blackjack in the defendant's hand?"
"No, sir! If I'd a knowed she had a blackjack would I have let her sneak up behind me? No. I'd have run her in before."
"What makes you think it was a blackjack?"
"The bump on my head." He leaned over the bench so the judge could examine it. "She couldn't have made that with her hand, Yer Honor."
"It certainly looks like a blackjack," the judge said.
"Are you sure, Brennan, it wasn't a piece of stone?"
"No. It wasn't no stone—I'd have seen her pick it up. It was a blackjack," he insisted doggedly.