"What statement?" demanded the coroner.
"Against the aspersion," continued the cobbler, with an oratorical flourish, "that has been cast upon a honourable calling."
"I don't understand you," said the coroner.
"Doctor Summers has insinuated that this murder was committed by a butcher. Now a member of that honourable calling is sitting on this jury—"
"You let me alone," growled the butcher.
"I will not let you alone," persisted the cobbler. "I desire—"
"Oh, shut up, Pope!" This was from the foreman, who, at the same moment, reached out an enormous hairy hand with which he grabbed the cobbler's coat-tails and brought him into a sitting posture with a thump that shook the room.
But Mr. Pope, though seated, was not silenced. "I desire," said he, "to have my protest put on record."
"I can't do that," said the coroner, "and I can't allow you to interrupt the witnesses."
"I am acting," said Mr. Pope, "in the interests of my friend here and the members of a honourable——"