“Then you admit that you had a quarrel with Mr. Carwell?”
“Yes, but—”
Just at this moment Viola Carwell fainted in the arms of her aunt, the resultant commotion being such that an adjournment was taken while she was carried to an anteroom, where Dr. Lambert attended her.
“We will resume where we left off,” said the prosecutor, when Bartlett again took the stand, and it might have been noticed that during the temporary recess one of the regular court constables from the county building at Loch Harbor remained close at his side. “Will you now state the nature of your quarrel with Mr. Carwell?” asked Mr. Stryker.
“I do not feel that I can.”
“Very well,” was the calm rejoinder. “Then, your honor,” and again Billy Teller seemed to swell with importance at the title, “I ask that this witness be held without bail to await a further session of this court, and I ask for an adjournment to summon other witnesses.”
“Granted,” replied Teller, who had been coached what to answer.
“Held!” exclaimed Bartlett, as he rose to his feet in indignation. “You are going to hold me! On what grounds?”
“On suspicion,” answered the prosecutor.
“Suspicion of what?”