“Any more witnesses for the prosecution, Mr. Wade?”
“No, sir. The prosecution rests.”
The judge turned back to Johnny. “Witnesses for the defense?”
“Call my horse,” said Johnny Dines.
“Your Honor, I object! This is preposterous—unheard of! We will admit the height of this accursed horse as being approximately fourteen hands, if that is what he wants to prove. I ask that you keep this buffoon in order. The trial has degenerated into farce-comedy.”
“Do you know, Mr. Wade, I seem to observe some tragic elements in this trial,” observed Hinkle. “I am curious to hear Mr. Dines state his motive in making so extraordinary a request from the court.”
“He’s trying to be funny!”
“No,” said the judge; “I do not think Mr. Dines is trying to be funny. If such is his idea, I shall find means to make him regret it. Will you explain, Mr. Dines? You are entitled to make a statement of what you expect to prove.”
Johnny rose.
“Certainly. Let me outline my plan of defense. I could not call witnesses until I heard the evidence against me. Now that I have heard the evidence, it becomes plain that, except for a flat denial by myself, no living man can speak for me. I was alone. When I take the stand presently, I shall state under oath precisely what I shall now outline to you briefly.