“A man? What man, and what for?”
“A young man I met upon the street, your Honor. I had been begging.”
There was a titter in the courtroom; the officer who was holding Jurgis put up his hand to hide a smile, and the magistrate smiled without trying to hide it. “It’s true, your Honor!” cried Jurgis, passionately.
“You had been drinking as well as begging last night, had you not?” inquired the magistrate. “No, your Honor—” protested Jurgis. “I—”
“You had not had anything to drink?”
“Why, yes, your Honor, I had—”
“What did you have?”
“I had a bottle of something—I don’t know what it was—something that burned—”
There was again a laugh round the courtroom, stopping suddenly as the magistrate looked up and frowned. “Have you ever been arrested before?” he asked abruptly.
The question took Jurgis aback. “I—I—” he stammered.