“Now, Captain,” said the Judge, when Gaston had finished, “as you have no counsel, you may question the witness if you want to.”
Captain Doc was a well-made, medium sized and shrewd man, little less than forty years of age, with very dark complexion, having three-fourths African blood.
He arose from his seat quite slowly, and squarely fronting Gaston, asked:
“Mr. Gaston, did I treat yo’ with any disrespect when I spoke to yo’? Didn’t I treat yo’ politely?”
“I ca’n’t say that you treated me with any disrespect; but I can say this much, that there was two or three members of your company that showed some impudence to me, and I also saw them load their guns.”
“Mr. Gaston,” replied the Captain, looking searchingly in the eyes of the little man, “didn’t yo’ see me examining the cartridge-boxes and the pockets of the company, to see if they had any ammunition before we went on drill?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did yo’ see any?”
“No.”