“Take the witness,” said Allen.
“Mr. Harkness,” said Wilson, “you say you saw these gentlemen, my clients, kick the plaintiff. Are you sure—and please remember that you are on oath—are you perfectly sure that you saw both of them kick him, or only one? Now be careful.”
A bewildered look began to spread itself over the witness's face. He hesitated, stammered, but got out nothing. His eyes wandered to the twins and fixed themselves there with a vacant gaze.
“Please answer, Mr. Harkness, you are keeping the court waiting. It is a very simple question.”
Counsel for the prosecution broke in with impatience:
“Your honor, the question is an irrelevant triviality. Necessarily, they both kicked him, for they have but the one pair of legs, and both are responsible for them.”
Wilson said, sarcastically:
“Will your honor permit this new witness to be sworn? He seems to possess knowledge which can be of the utmost value just at this moment—knowledge which would at once dispose of what every one must see is a very difficult question in this case. Brother Allen, will you take the stand?”
“Go on with your case!” said Allen, petulantly. The audience laughed, and got a warning from the court.
“Now, Mr. Harkness,” said Wilson, insinuatingly, “we shall have to insist upon an answer to that question.”