“I repeat, he has been doing that. I was getting ready to take proper measures to handle him. Something better than talking back to a lunatic! But I didn't reckon I'd have such good luck as this! Twelve men right here for my witnesses! Look hard at him, men!”
They did look, though they did not comprehend what Britt's excited insistence signified. He pulled out a notebook and pencil and handed it to the nearest man. “Mark down two! Mark it down—and all of you take due notice.”
The Prophet returned to the highway and came slowly pacing along toward the group.
“All of you saw, did you? All of you ready to bear witness?” demanded the magnate.
He stepped out in front of Elias when the latter came near. Britt shook the roll of drawings under the Prophet's nose. “Listen here, my man! I didn't bother to talk to you a few minutes ago. Now I'm talking. You've been a vagabond in this town for a long time. The only thing that has protected you from the law in such cases made and provided has been the roof of a man who ought to be a tramp along with you. Right now, before the eyes of a dozen citizens, you have committed two separate and distinct breaches of the law. You have trespassed on my property. In the past I have sent men to jail for sixty days for one offense of that sort. On my complaint, backed by these witnesses, you'll see sixty days on one case—and I'll have you re-arrested on the other count the moment you step foot out of the jail.” He paused.
“Yes?” said the Prophet, mildly inquiring.
“I'm a fair man, and I call the attention of these witnesses to what I say now. I'll give you a chance. Walk out of this town and stay out, and I'll not prosecute.”
The Prophet shook his head.
“Do you refuse to go?”
For a man who dealt so exclusively in texts, the Prophet was rather vulgarly blunt when he replied, “You bet!”