these points for a time, pursing his lips as he deliberated.
It might be as well to humor this stranger, he reasoned. It would appear more impartial; and it was really a small matter, after all, whether the prisoner defended himself before he knew exactly of what he was accused, or afterward. The judge's hand sought the pitcher and, though his eyes were still closed, he found the handle with unerring instinct.
"Ah-h-h! Poth, do you think you can jump up a Bible handy?"
"They was one here"—Poth raised the dust of many months as he fumbled on a shelf—"but a doggone pack-rat got away with most of it. I know where they's a mail-order store's catalogue—a sheep-herder's Bible is better than nothin', jedge. Here's what's left of it!" Poth held up the chewed remnants, adding cynically: "Them rats can swaller more than I can."
" 'Tain't becomin', Mr. Poth," said the judge reprovingly, "in a gent as sells as poor whisky as you do to cast slurs at the Gospel.
