Mr. Brown eyed Mr. Tutt savagely. "What do you mean by that?"
"Didn't you tell this old gentleman beside me that you were a doctor of medicine but not a doctor of veterinary medicine—and beg him to treat your horse for that reason?"
"Sure I did. Certainly."
"Well, are you a licensed medical practitioner?"
"Look here! What's that got to do with it?" snarled Mr. Brown, looking about for aid from the sleeping Hingman.
"The question is a proper one. Answer it," directed the judge.
"No, I'm not a licensed doctor."
"Well, didn't you treat Mr. Lowry?"
The jury by this time had caught the drift of the examination and were listening with intent appreciation.
Mr. Brown leaned forward, a sickening smile of sneering superiority curling about his yellow molars.