last night?”
“Yes, sir, he was. He did join, too, and drank a glass or two of whisky,
like a man.”
“Was his brother willing to join?”
“No, sir, he wasn’t. He is a teetotaler, and was elected through a
mistake.”
“Was he given a glass of whisky?”
“Yes, sir, but of course that was another mistake, and not intentional.
He wouldn’t drink it. He set it down.” A slight pause, then he added,
casually and quite simply: “The plaintiff reached for it and hogged it.”
There was a fine outburst of laughter, but as the justice was caught out
himself, his reprimand was not very vigorous.
Mr. Allen jumped up and exclaimed: “I protest against these foolish
irrelevancies. What have they to do with the case?”
Wilson said: “Calm yourself, brother, it was only an experiment. Now,
Mr. Wakeman, if one of these gentlemen chooses to join an association and
the other doesn’t; and if one of them enjoys whisky and the other
doesn’t, but sets it aside and leaves it unprotected” (titter from the
audience), “it seems to show that they have independent minds, and
tastes, and preferences, and that one of them is able to approve of a
thing at the very moment that the other is heartily disapproving of it.
Doesn’t it seem so to you?”
“Certainly it does. It’s perfectly plain.”
“Now, then, it might be–I only say it might be–that one of these
brothers wanted to kick the plaintiff last night, and that the other
didn’t want that humiliating punishment inflicted upon him in that public
way and before all those people. Isn’t that possible?”
“Of course it is. It’s more than possible. I don’t believe the blond
one would kick anybody. It was the other one that–”
“Silence!” shouted the plaintiff’s counsel, and went on with an angry
sentence which was lost in the wave of laughter that swept the house.
“That will do, Mr. Wakeman,” said Wilson, “you may stand down.”
The third witness was called. He had seen the twins kick the plaintiff.
Mr. Wilson took the witness.
“Mr. Rogers, you say you saw these accused gentlemen kick the plaintiff?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Both of them?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Which of them kicked him first?”
“Why–they–they both kicked him at the same time.
“Are you perfectly sure of that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What makes you sure of it?”
“Why, I stood right behind them, and saw them do it.”
“How many kicks were delivered?”
“Only one.”
“If two men kick, the result should be two kicks, shouldn’t it?”
“Why–why yes, as a rule.”
“Then what do you think went with the other kick?”
“I–well–the fact is, I wasn’t thinking of two being necessary, this
time.”
“What do you think now?”
“Well, I–I’m sure I don’t quite know what to think, but I reckon that
one of them did half of the kick and the other one did the other half.”
Somebody in the crowd sung out: “It’s the first sane thing that any of
them has said.”
The audience applauded. The judge said: “Silence! or I will clear the
court.”
Mr. Allen looked pleased, but Wilson did not seem disturbed. He said:
“Mr. Rogers, you have favored us with what you think and what you reckon,
but as thinking and reckoning are not evidence, I will now give you a
chance to come out with something positive, one way or the other, and
shall require you to produce it. I will ask the accused to stand up and
repeat the phenomenal kick of last night.” The twins stood up. “Now,
Mr. Rogers, please stand behind them.”
A Voice: “No, stand in front!” (Laughter. Silenced by the court.)
Another Voice: “No, give Tommy another highst!” (Laughter. Sharply
rebuked by the court.)
“Now, then, Mr. Rogers, two kicks shall be delivered, one after the
other, and I give you my word that at least one of the two shall be
delivered by one of the twins alone, without the slightest assistance
from his brother. Watch sharply, for you have of to render a decision
without any if’s and ands it.” Rogers bent himself behind the twins with
palms just above his knees, in the modern attitude of the catcher at a