“Did you hear any one, at any time, say that it would be right and proper to remove or destroy those stakes?”
Before Gabriel could answer, Templeton, the opposing lawyer, was on his feet.
“Counsel forgets,” he declared, “that this is his own witness whom he appears to be cross-examining. I demand the enforcement of the rule and the protection of the witness.”
Judge Moore removed his glasses and poised them between his thumb and forefinger.
“The witness appears to be unfriendly and evasive,” he declared. “We think counsel is within his rights in pressing the question. Proceed.”
The incident gave Gabriel time for thought; but if he had had a year in which to think it out, he could not have framed a successfully evasive answer to the question. And it added not a little to his discomfiture that Abner Pickett’s eyes were still piercing him like arrows of fire.
“Well,” said Marshall, impatiently, “answer the question. We can’t wait all day.”
“W’y,” stammered Gabriel, “I—well I—”
