"When did you first hear of Watson's death?" asked Carmody.
The witness hesitated. A look of doubt, of evasion, in his eyes. "Why, the ranger told us."
"Which of you owns that sorrel horse?" asked one of the jury.
Raines again interposed. "You needn't answer that," he warned. "That's not before the court."
Carmody went on. "Now, Busby, you might as well tell us the truth. Henry and Rita both state that Watson had refused to pay you, and that you had a scrap and Watson kicked you off the place. Is that true?"
Raines rescued him. "You don't have to answer that," he said, and the witness breathed an almost inaudible sigh of relief.
A violent altercation arose at this point between the coroner and the lawyer. Carmody insisted on his right to ask any question he saw fit, and Raines retorted that the witness had a right to refuse to incriminate himself.
"You stick to your bread pills and vials," he said to the coroner, "and don't assume a knowledge of the law. You become ridiculous when you do."
"I know my powers," retorted Carmody in high resentment, "and you keep a civil tongue in your head or I'll fine you for contempt. I may not know all the ins and outs of court procedure, but I'm going to see justice done, and I'm going to see that you keep your place."
"You can't steam-roll me," roared Raines.