"Very well," said Shagarach. "It is the face of Jacob, but the voice of Esau. For the present, that will do."
"Miss Senda Wesner."
While the bakeshop girl was pushing her way forward from the back seat which she had occupied, Sire, who was squeezed where he lay, gravely arose, climbed the vacated witness-box and spread his great limbs out, majestically contemplating the spectators.
"This is the one eyewitness of the crime," said the district attorney.
"But unfortunately dumb," added Shagarach. Just then an impulse seized Emily, who had left the cage for a moment—Emily, the most shrinking of girls—and catching a large waste-basket which stood under the lawyers' desks to receive the litter that accumulates in trials, she stood up and shoved it toward the dog.
To everybody's surprise, he scrambled to his feet in alarm, backed hastily away and barked continuously at the harmless object. Then before the whole court, judges, jury and all, Emily clapped her hands and gave a girlish shriek of delight—only to sink in her place afterward, as the spectators smiled, and hide her blushes behind her fan. But it was some little while before Sire would let her pat him.
"You work opposite the Arnold house, Miss Wesner?" asked the district attorney.
"Directly opposite. I can look right over into their windows," said Senda.
"But I hope you don't."
"Well, I try not to, but sometimes, you know, you can't resist the inclination," chattered the bakeshop girl.