soner was sound asleep in the
pink silk fastnesses of the Bouguereau Room when he was discovered that
he made no attempt to escape, that he did not assault anybody and that
he had appeared comatose from exhaustion; that there was no sign of a
break anywhere, and that the pair of opera glasses "worth five dollars
_apiece_"--Tutt invited the court's attention to this ingenuous
phraseology of Mr. Caput Magnus, as a literary curiosity--were a figment
of the imagination.

In a word Mr. Tutt rolled Bibby up and threw him away, while his master
shuddered at the open disclosure of his trusted major-domo's vulgarity,
mendacity and general lack of sportsmanship. Somehow all at once the
case began to break up and go all to pot. The jury got laughing at
Bibby, the footmen and the cops as Mr. Tutt painted for their
edification the scene following the arrival of Mrs. Witherspoon, when
Schmidt was discovered asleep, as Mr. Tutt put it, like Goldilocks in
the Little, Small, Wee Bear's bed.

Stocking was the next witness, and he fared no better than had Bibby.
O'Brien, catching the judge's eye, made a wry face and imperceptibly
lowered his left lid--on the side away from the jury, thus officially
indicating that, of course, the case was a lemon but that there was
nothing that could be done except to try it out to the bitter end.

Then he rose and called out unexpectedly: "Mr. John De Puyster
Hepplewhite--take the stand!"

It was entirely unexpected. No one had suggested that he would be called
for the prosecution. Possibly O'Brien was actuated by a slight touch of
malice; possibly he wanted to be able, if the case was lost, to accuse
Hepplewhite of losing it on his own testimony. But at any rate he
certainly had no anticipation of what the ultimate consequence of his
act would be.

Mr. Hepplewhite suddenly felt as though his entire intestinal mechanism
had been removed. But he had no time to take counsel of his fears.
Everybody in the courtroom turned with one accord and looked at him. He
rose, feeling as one who dreams; that he is naked in the midst of a
multitude. He shrank back hesitating, but hostile hands reached out and
pushed him forward. Cringing, he slunk to the witness chair, and for the
first time faced the sardonic eyes of the terrible Tutt, his adversary
who looked scornfully from Hepplewhite to the jury and then from the
jury back to Hepplewhite as if to say: "Look at him! Call you this a
man?"

"You are the Mr. He