“That is the signature of Lord Aberdeen, governor general of Canada.”
“Did you see him sign it?”
“No.”
“Hm,” said the judge, laying it down.
Our lawyer picked it up and appeared to read it carefully. Turning to the officer, he asked: “How do you know that is Lord Aberdeen’s signature? Were you there when he signed it? Did you ever see him sign his name to any paper? Did you ever see Lord Aberdeen? What’s this thing?” He tapped the seal, the big red seal half as large as your hand.
“That is the seal of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria of England,” the man answered, getting indignant and red in the face.
“Oh, it is, is it? How do you know it is? Did you see her put it there? Is she here to identify it? There’s no Victoria here in this court, is there? This might be the seal of Jane Doe, a waitress. Anybody can have a seal. Do you think the court is going to recognize this thing? You’ll have to come in here with something better than that,” he said, throwing it on the floor and kicking it under a table.
The officer got down from the witness stand, picked it up, brushed it off, and carefully put it away.
The judge then said: “This court cannot recognize that as a valid document. You come here with a paper demanding custody of these defendants, but we have here no proof that it is genuine. It might be a forgery. We know there is such a person as Lord Aberdeen, of Canada, but we have no proof that his signature is on that warrant. I cannot hold defendants on such evidence.”
We were discharged again. I don’t know where the money went that I gave the lawyer who sold us the point that beat the extradition; I know the judge didn’t give us any the worst of it.