"Place of residence?"
"Phœnix."
"Occupation?"
"Inventor."
Somebody snickered.
"Waal, he is!" cried Welcome. "Dad-bing!"
The officer started toward the reformed road-agent, and Welcome ducked into a corner of the room and hid behind a fat man who hadn't been able to find a seat.
"I will ask you to tell the jury, Mark," said Short, "just what you and Matt King have been doing in Prescott."
The prosecutor was on his feet like a shot, objecting, of course.
The judge knitted his brows.