"It is hard for me, not being a doctor, to say," answered Rankin, looking back thoughtfully toward Jack. "I think, however, that he is suffering from some affection of the brain."
A horse-laugh was heard from some one among the "unwashed," and the police strained their heads to see who made the noise. The old plea of insanity seemed to be coming up once again, and one man in the crowd was certainly amused.
The magistrate said: "I do not think there is any reason why I should not go on hearing the evidence, now. I will note your objection, Mr. Rankin, and I perceive that you may be in a rather awkward position, perhaps, if you are in total ignorance of the facts."
Rankin was in a quandary. If he sat down and declined to cross-examine the witnesses or act for the defendant in any way, Jack might be convicted, and all chances for technical loopholes of escape might be lost forever. There might, however, in this case, if the trial were forced on, be a ground for some after proceedings on the claim that he did not get fair play. On the other hand, cross-examination might possibly break up the prosecution, if the evidence was weak or unsatisfactory. He came to the conclusion that he would go on and examine the witness and try to have it understood that he did so under protest.
After partly explaining to the magistrate what he wished to do, he asked Geoffrey a few questions—not seeing his way at all clearly, but just for the general purpose of fishing until he elicited something that he might use.
"You say that after the defendant spoke to you in the bank you heard him go out through the side door. Where does that side door lead?"
"It leads into an empty hall, and then you go out of an outer side door into the street."
"Is not this outer side door sometimes left open in hot weather?"
"Yes, I think it was open all that day."
"How are the partitions between the stalls or boxes of the different clerks in the Victoria Bank constructed?"