“Now, tell the jury what you wanted to see.”
“Object!” from Hammer, who rose with his right hand held high, his small finger and thumb doubled in his palm, like a bidder at an auction.
“Now, your honor, am I to be–” began the prosecutor with wearied patience.
“Object!” interrupted Hammer, sweating like a haymaker.
“To what do you object, Mr. Hammer?” asked the court mildly.
“To anything and everything he’s about to ask!” said Hammer hotly. 281
The court-room received this with a laugh, for there were scores of cornfield lawyers present. The judge smiled, balancing a pen between finger and thumb.
“The objection is overruled,” said he.
“When you lit that lamp, what did you want to see?” the prosecutor asked again.
“I wanted to see my way upstairs,” Joe answered.