Mr. Benedict mounted the witness stand. He was pale and quiet, with a pink tinge on either cheek. He had the bearing and dress of a gentleman, and contrasted strangely with the coarse, bold man to whom he had been indebted for so many wrongs and indignities. He was at last in the place to which he had looked forward with so much dread, but there came to him a calmness and a self-possession which he had not anticipated. He was surrounded by powerful friends. He was menaced, too, by powerful enemies, and all his manhood was roused.
"What is your name?" asked Mr. Balfour.
"Paul Benedict."
"Where were you born?"
"In the city of New York."
"Are you the inventor of the machines, implements and processes named in the documents from the Patent Office which have just been read in your hearing?"
"I am, sir."
"And you are the only owner of all these patent rights?"
"I am, sir."
"What is your profession?"