“Whenever he had a chance. But he couldn’t find his match in college.”
“Did you ever see him wrestle with Mr. Watkins?”
“Who—Ben? Of course I did; and he threw him every time too.”
At this the buzz among the spectators almost broke out in open applause. Manning stock was evidently on the rise.
“Now,” said Captain Ellis, when the sensation produced by Bert Smedley’s testimony had subsided, “I shall call a witness by whom I hope to prove that part of my client’s story in which he described how the money that enabled him to pay his hotel bill came into his possession. Mr. William Biggs will please take the stand.”
At the sound of his name the big, uncouth-looking fellow whom Myles at once recognized as his cabin acquaintance, Bill, shuffled awkwardly toward the place pointed out to him. He was closely followed by the bull-dog Tige, who, however, was not noticed until he was seated close by his master’s side on the witness-stand.
“Put that dog out of the room,” commanded the judge, sternly.
The sheriff started forward to obey the order, but hesitated at Tige’s ominous growl and display of teeth.
“He won’t do no harm, Jedge. He’s a lamb, Tige is, onless he’s riled. But it’s resky to rile him,” said Bill, facing his Honor and quieting the dog at the same time.