Mr. Ball. Under which eye?
Mr. Westbrook. I think it was the right eye—no, wait a minute, that would be the left eye—left eye.
Mr. Ball. You do recall that?
Mr. Westbrook. The one that was facing me—he was facing me.
Mr. Ball. Do you recall a bruise under the left eye—when?
Mr. Westbrook. When I looked at him in the theatre, but why, as many officers as there were ahold of him, how he got out from under all the group without more than that, I don't know. Just accidentally trying to straighten up, with as many officers as there were there—I don't know.
Mr. Ball. And you think you do recall that bruise under the left eye?
Mr. Westbrook. Maybe I should put that this way, Mr. Ball, a bruise under the eye, because I can't be definite about which eye, but just from the picture I see, but I know I saw that bruise and due to the fact that he had hollered "brutality"—well I'm getting ahead of myself here, so I'll just quit.
Mr. Ball. Go right ahead.
Mr. Westbrook. Due to the fact that he had hollered "brutality," as soon as Mr. McDonald had arrived at the city hall with the scratch on his face, I sent him on upstairs.