Instead of obeying Cassius beckoned to him. Then followed a long, whispered conference between lawyer and client, at the end of which the former, visibly annoyed, declared that the defendant had decided not to testify. The Court indicated that it was optional with the prisoner and asked if the counsel desired to introduce any further testimony. Counsel for the defense announced that his client's decision had altered his plans and that he was forced to rest his case. The Assistant District Attorney stated that he had two witnesses to examine in rebuttal.
"Send for Mrs. Elsie Morton," he directed. "She is waiting in the District Attorney's office, Mr. Bailiff."
To the amazement of every one, Cassius Smilk started up from his chair, a wild look in his eye. He sat down instantly, however, but it was evident that he had sustained a tremendous and unexpected shock. Mr. Yollop who had purposely selected a seat in the front row of spectators from which he could occasionally exchange mutual glances of well-assumed repugnance with the rascal, caught Smilk's eye as it followed the retiring bailiff. The faintest shadow of a wink flickered for a second across that smileless, apparently troubled optic. Mr. Yollop, who had been leaning forward in his chair for the better part of the afternoon with one hand cupped behind his ear and the other manipulating the disc in a vain but determined effort to hear what was going on, suddenly relaxed into a comfortable, satisfied attitude and smiled triumphantly. He knew what was coming. And so did Smilk.
Mrs. Morton was a plump, bobbed-hair blond of thirty. She had moist carmine lips, a very white nose, strawberry-hued cheek bones, an alabaster chin and forehead, and pale, gray eyes surrounded by blue-black rims tinged with crimson. She wore a fashionable hat,—(Mr. Yollop noticed that at a glance)—a handsome greenish cloth coat with a broad moleskin collar and cuffs of the same fur, pearl gray stockings that were visible to the knees, and high gray shoes that yawned rather shamelessly at the top despite the wearer's doughtiest struggle with the laces. Her gloves, also were somewhat over-crowded. She gave her name as Mrs. Elsie Broderick Morton, married; occupation, ticket seller in a motion picture theater.
The State: "What is your husband's name and occupation?"
Witness: "Filbert Morton. So far as I know, he never had a regular occupation."
The State: "When were you and Filbert Morton married?"
Witness: "June the fourteenth, 1916."
The State: "Are you living with your husband at present?"
Witness: "I am not."