“Sheriff!” exclaimed the Judge, “arrest Mr. Blicker, if you please.”
“I am not running,” said Blicker, who suddenly seemed to recollect that flight was an evidence of guilt. “I was only changing my seat. That preacher has made up that lie.”
“How came you never to have said anything about this before?” said the District Attorney angrily, turning to Ernest, “Why did you not give in this testimony in the committing court, and save the expense and trouble of this trial?”
“I had a very good reason for it,” said Ernest, “I was anxious for the reformation of Mr. Comston, and I believed that nothing but imprisonment for several months would ever cure him of his evil habits. Surely, the salvation of a human soul is worth the few dollars that it may cost the county.”
“You have pursued a very strange course, it seems to me,” said the District Attorney. “Suppose you had taken sick and died before the trial came off, you would have left your friend in a sad predicament.”
“Not at all, sir,” replied Ernest. “I made provision for contingencies of that sort. You may ask Mr. Greenlee.”
“I will state,” said Mr. Greenlee, “that a few days after this killing, Mr. Edgefield made his deposition to the facts he has just stated, and signed it in the presence of two witnesses. However, that is perfectly irrelevant. We have no use whatever for the deposition.”
“Will your Honor permit such a proceeding as this?” asked the District Attorney.
“Certainly,” answered the Court, “Mr. Edgefield was never summoned as a witness in the committing court.”