Dan did not see what that amounted to. Neither did any one else but the Squire. To him it showed the power he had to make prisoners do whatever he commanded.
“Where is the complainant in this case?” went on the justice.
No one answered.
“Is the complainant not present? Unless he answers at once I shall commit him for contempt of court.”
“I don’t think there is any com—complainant, Judge,” spoke Mr. Wolff, wondering what the word meant.
“What? No complainant? Why there must be, or we can not hold court.”
“Can’t I get you one, your Honor?” asked Mr. Walker, determined to make up for past offenses. “If you tell me where it is I’ll bring it.”
“The complainant is the person who makes the complaint—who brings the charge—who accuses the prisoner,” explained the justice, frowning, as he saw some persons smiling.
“Oh, I’m makin’ th’ charge,” replied Constable Wolff.
“So am I!” exclaimed his fellow officer quickly, for he was not going to be left out of the affair.