"Yes, I was; but if you’re trying to infer—\-\-\" began the witness angrily.
"Never mind what I’m trying to infer, Mr. Smithers," interrupted the lawyer gently. "Step down, please, unless the district attorney wishes to cross-examine; I’m through with you."
He turned to the jury with, a pleasant smile. "But one more witness; then our case is finished. I shall now call Mr. Alfred Adams."
As Mr. Adams, a gray-haired, bespectacled man, took the stand, Jake Hines stared at him in astonishment. Who could this fellow be? Jake had never seen him before, and the name suggested nothing to him. He wondered what the calling of this witness could mean.
"Mr. Adams," began counsel for the defense, very softly, "will you please tell the jury what your occupation is?"
"I am a postal clerk employed at the registry window of Branch Post Office D E."
"At Branch D E. That’s the branch from which the package was mailed," explained the lawyer. "And how long have you been employed there, Mr. Adams?"
"For seventeen years," replied the gray-haired witness proudly.
"Seventeen years! That’s a long time, Mr. Adams. Have you made many mistakes in your work during that period?"
"Not a single mistake, sir," replied the postal clerk, still more proudly, and added, with a smile: "The boys at the branch call me ‘Accurate’ Adams."