The crowd in the court-room titters and the court attendant raps loudly with a paper-weight on the oaken railing for silence. The judge regards Mr. Appleboy good-naturedly.
"I am very sorry you have had so much trouble. My position in the matter simply is that I cannot personally take the responsibility of deciding to whom this property belongs, particularly when no jury has ever passed upon the guilt or innocence of the defendant. I shall be very glad, however, to approve any certificate which the district attorney may choose to give you stating that he has no further need or use for the property."
Appleboy brightens.
"Your Honor," says he, "Mr. Jones has already given me such a certificate, and I shall be much obliged to you if you will approve it."
Jones hands it to the judge, who writes the word "Approved" upon it, then returns it to the assistant.
"You will observe," says his Honor, "that all I do in the matter is to approve the statement of the district attorney that he makes no objection to the delivery of the property to any person who proves to the satisfaction of the property clerk his right to the possession of the same. My approval really does not amount to anything at all. I cannot grant you a court order. I am aware that several of my associates might do so under exactly similar circumstances, but I personally do not care to assume any such responsibility. Proceed with the case on trial."
Out in the corridor Appleboy inquires anxiously of Jones how on earth he is going to prove to the satisfaction of the property clerk his right to the possession of the teapot.
"Oh, you won't have any difficulty at all," says Jones; "this certificate from us, with the judge's 'O.K.' on it, is equivalent to a court order, even if it is not one technically."
"I don't know," answers Appleboy doubtfully; "this paper seems to leave it up to me to persuade the intelligence of the property clerk."
"You won't have any trouble," laughs the assistant. "Good-by."