"My client, your Honor," he said, "was standing peacefully in the public square, accompanied by his son. They were beaten up, both of them, by this young man who has been brought into this court by our properly constituted officer of the law. Without any provocation whatever, this defendant inflicted great personal injury upon my client."
"We will make Eph's face 'Exhibit A,' and let it go into evidence," smiled Hod Brooks amicably; and the audience smiled and shuffled yet more.
"As to the unlawful detention of the son of my client," resumed Judge Henderson, beet-red now, "we have chosen the remedy of habeas corpus rather than a simple discharge, because we wish to bring before our people the full enormity of the offense which has been committed here in the public view, actually upon the grounds of our temple of justice. We shall show——"
"Your Honor," interrupted old Hod Brooks at this point, half rising, "if this were a political gathering indeed, and not the trial of a cause in a justice court, I would rise to a point of order. As it is, I rise to a point of law."
"State your point," said Justice Blackman.
"We are trying, as I understand it, the case of this defendant, Dewdonny Lane, accused by this plaintiff, Ephraim Adamson, of assault and battery?"
Justice Blackman nodded gravely.
"Then why does my learned brother speak of habeas corpus in this case, and what is the case which he is trying, or thinks he is trying? What is his evidence going to be? And why does he not get on?"
"Your Honor," blazed Henderson, "I shall not endure this sort of thing."
"Oh, yes, you will, my learned brother," said Hod Brooks, still smiling gently. If Henderson had other resources, he needed them now, for keenly enough he sensed himself as slipping in this battle of wits before assembled electors; and it really was politics alone that had brought him here—he scented a crowd afar off. He now lost his temper utterly.