Meantime Colonel Cresswell's lawyer was on his feet, and he adopted his most irritating and contemptuous manner.
"This nigger wench wrote out some illegible stuff and Colonel Cresswell signed it to get rid of her. We are not going to question the legality of the form—that's neither here nor there. The point is, Mr. Cresswell never intended—never dreamed of selling this wench land right in front of his door. He meant to rent her the land and sign a receipt for rent paid in advance. I will not worry your honor by a long argument to prove this, but just call one of the witnesses well known to you—Mr. John Taylor of the Toomsville mills."
Taylor looked toward the door and then slowly took the stand.
"Mr. Taylor," said the lawyer carelessly, "were you present at this transaction?"
"Yes."
"Did you see Colonel Cresswell sign this paper?"
"Yes."
"Well, did he intend so far as you know to sign such a paper?"
"I do not know his intentions."
"Did he say he meant to sign such a contract?"