"Traitor! liar! scoundrel!" exclaimed Gaut Gurley, in a tone that sounded like the hiss of a serpent, as he bent forward and glared upon Elwood, with an expression so absolutely fiendish as to make every one in the room pause and shudder, and as to be remembered and recounted, months afterwards, in connection with events which seemed destined to spring from this worse than fruitless trial.
"You was going to say," said the attorney for the prosecution, here eagerly pricking up and turning to the interrupted and now evidently discomposed witness,—"you was going to say, he proposed that he and you should take all the furs to yourselves, and so rob the rest of the company!"
"I can't tell the words; but I think he meant that," replied Elwood, in more subdued tones.
"O ho," exclaimed Gaut's lawyer; "you now think, that is, you guess, he meant something that you didn't dream of his meaning at the time he uttered it. Pretty evidence this; make the most of it!"
"We will," said the opposite counsel; "and I request the court to take it all down, together with the prisoner's exclamations of traitor, etc., which involves, indirectly, an admission that I shall remark on in the argument. Yes, let all this be noted carefully. It is important. It goes to show the previous design, which, coupled with the identified furs, is, I trust the court will see, sufficient to fix the crime on the respondent, beyond all doubt or question."
"We will soon show you how much you will make out of your identified furs," rejoined the other lawyer, with a confident and defiant air.
"Have you witnesses to introduce on the part of the defence?" asked the court.
"Yes, your honor; but our most important one has not yet arrived. We are expecting him every minute."
At that moment, a shout of surprise and laughter, together with an unusual commotion in the yard, arrested the attention of all in the court-room; and they mostly rushed to the door or windows to ascertain the cause, when they were amused to behold the young Indian, Tomah, driving into the yard, with his moose harnessed to a pung or sledge, of his own rigging up, on which—-with reins and whip in hand—-he sat as jauntily as a coachman, and almost with, the same ease, apparently, brought his strange steed to a stand before the door.
"Our witness has come!" exclaimed Gaut's lawyer, exultingly. "Mr. Sheriff, send out and bring him in. We will now dispose of this miserable prosecution, in short metre."