The squire and the colonel turned red in the face and looked rather foolish, inwardly wishing that Captain Sam was at the bottom of the bay.
Captain Sam, under further questioning, told again the story of that afternoon’s sailing, mentioning casually that the colonel had requested to be set ashore when the Nancy Jane was out in the middle of the bay, which request, as Captain Sam explained, there being no land near by excepting that straight down under water, he was unable to grant.
Another titter through the court-room, the colonel and the squire blushing redder than ever.
It was embarrassing enough to Captain Sam to tell how he had put the Nancy Jane aground in Little Reach, for he knew there was scarce a man or boy within the sound of his voice who wouldn’t vow to himself that, if he had been in Captain Sam’s place, he would have known better. It was really mortifying.
Squire Barker made the most of this, not because it could help his clients, but because it served in its way to put one of the people’s witnesses in a ridiculous light, and because it gave him a chance to show how smart a cross-examiner he could be, thereby elevating himself in the eyes and admiration of his townsfolk.
“So you got aground where these young men took their boat through all right, did you?” queried Squire Barker.
“I got aground,” snapped Captain Sam, sharply.
“And these young men took their boat through safe and sound?”
“I don’t know,” roared Captain Sam. “I didn’t see them.”
“But you saw them just a few minutes before that, didn’t you?”