“I never did believe in those Waterbury turnips, they always stop when you—oh yes!—swaggered about his big brother and all those fellows over there, and blabbed out there’d been a regular plant among ’em to rig the Elections, and he and a lot of ’em had been out canvassing and bagged a lot of our kids and locked them out, and if it hadn’t been for that, Brinkman would have pulled off the treasurership, and if it hadn’t been for me getting wind of it, and going and fetching them out and bringing them into Hall in the nick of time, Ranger would have got the secretaryship, and our side would have been jolly well out of it, and I mean to say it’s a howling swindle—and—hope—there’ll—be—a—jolly—good—row kicked—up—and—you—needn’t—say—I—let—out—about it—because—Wally—asked—me—to—keep—it—mum—and I—said—”
“Time’s up,” said Ramshaw. “No side?”
Whereupon the witness stopped short triumphantly, like an athlete who has just won his race by a neck.
“Come,” said the judge, “this is getting interesting. Who’s the next witness? Are any of our fellows who were collared here?”
“Rather—young Rix is one.”
“Please, Dangle,” said the prisoner, “I didn’t touch anybody. I was—that is—”
“Don’t tell crams,” said Percy, “it’s a bad habit.”
“Rix had better go into the witness-box,” said the judge.
“What about the jury?” asked that functionary.
“Oh, I’d keep the place warm,” volunteered Percy.