The judge interrupted, again glaring at Verily. “Makepeace, it's words like 'traitorous scoundrel' that's going to get you declared in contempt of court. Do you understand me now?”
“I been calling a spade a spade all my life, Your Honor!” Makepeace declared.
“At this moment you're digging a very deep hole with it,” said the judge, “and I'm the man to bury you if you don't watch your tongue!”
Cowed, Makepeace put on a very solemn look and faced forward. “I apologize, Your Honor, for daring to live up to my oath to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the–”
The gavel came down.
“Nor will I allow sarcasm directed at this bench, Mr. Smith. Continue, Mr. Laws.”
And so it went, till Makepeace had finished with his tale. It truly was a weak and whining little complaint. First there was an iron plow, made of the very iron Makepeace had provided for the journeyman piece. Then there was a plow made of solid gold. Makepeace could only think of two possibilities. First, that Alvin had somehow used some sort of hexery to change the iron into gold, in which case it was made from the iron Makepeace had given him and, according to time-honored tradition and the terms of Alvin's prentice papers, the plow belonged to Makepeace. Or it was a different plow, not made from Makepeace's iron, in which case where did Alvin get such gold? The only time Alvin had ever done enough digging to bring up buried treasure like that was when he was digging a well for Makepeace, which he dug in the wrong place. Makepeace was betting Alvin had dug in the right place first, found the gold, and then hid it by digging in another spot for the actual well. And if the gold was found on Makepeace's land, well, it was Makepeace's gold that way, too.
Verily's cross-examination was brief. It consisted of two questions.
“Did you see Alvin take gold or anything like gold out of the ground?”
Angry, Makepeace, started to make excuses, but Verily waited until the judge had directed him to answer the question yes or no.
“No.”
“Did you see the iron plow transformed into a golden plow?”
“Well so what if I didn't, the fact is there ain't no iron plow so where is it then?”
Again, the judge told him to answer the question yes or no.
“No,” said Makepeace.
“No more questions for this witness,” said Verily.
As Makepeace got up and left the witness box, Verily turned to the judge. “Your Honor, the defense moves for immediate dismissal of all charges, inasmuch as the testimony of this witness is not sufficient to establish probable cause.”
The judge rolled his eyes. “I hope I'm not going to have to listen to motions like that after every witness.”
“Just the pathetic ones, Your Honor,” said Verily.
“Your point is made. Your motion is denied. Mr. Laws, your next witness?”
“I would like to have called Makepeace's wife, Gertie, but she passed away more than a year ago. Instead, with the court's permission, I will call the woman who was doing kitchen help for her the day the golden plow was first… evidenced. Anga Berry.”
The judge looked at Verily. “This will make her testimony hearsay, after a fashion. Do you have any objection, Mr. Cooper?”
Alvin had already assured Verily that nothing Anga could say would do him any possible harm. “No objection, Your Honor.”
Alvin listened as Anga Berry testified. She didn't really witness to anything except that Gertie told her about Makepeace's accusations the very next morning, so the charge wasn't one he dreamed up later. On cross-examination, Verily was kind to her, only asking her whether Gertie Smith had said anything to lead Anga to believe she thought Alvin was as bad a boy as Makepeace said.
Marty rose to his feet. “Hearsay, Your Honor.”
Impatiently the judge replied, “Well, Marty, we know it's hearsay. It was for hearsay that you called her in the first place!”
Abashed, Marty Laws sat back down.
“She never said nothing about his smithery or nothing,” said Anga. “But I know Gertie set quite a store by the boy. Always helped her out, toted water for her whenever she asked– that's the worst job– and he was good with the children and just… always helping. She never said a bad word about him, and I reckon she had a high opinion of his goodness.”
“Did Gertie ever tell you he was a liar or deceiver?” asked Verily.
“Oh, no, unless you count hiding some job he was doing till it was done, so as to surprise her. If that's deception, then he done that a couple of times.”
And that was it. Alvin was relieved to know that Gertie hadn't been unkind to him behind his back, that even after her death she was a friend to him. What surprised Alvin was how glum Verily was when he sat down at the table next to him. Marty was busy calling his next witness, a fellow named Hank Dowser whose tale Alvin could easily guess– this was a man who did have malice and it wouldn't be pleasant to hear him. Still, he hadn't seen anything either, and in fact the well-digging had nothing to do with the plow so what did it matter? Why did Verily look so unhappy?
Alvin asked him.
“Because there was no reason for Laws to call that woman. She worked against his case and he had to know that in advance.”
“So why did he call her?”
“Because he wanted to lay the groundwork for something. And since she didn't say anything new during his examination of her, it must have been during the cross-examination that the new groundwork was laid.”
“All you asked Anga was wheiher Gertie had the same low opinion of me that her husband had.”
Verily thought for a moment. “No. I also asked her if you had ever deceived Gertie. Oh, I'm such a fool. If only I could recall those words from my lips!”
“What's wrong with that?” asked Alvin
“He must have some witness that calls you a deceiver, a witness who is otherwise irrelevant to this case.”
In the meantime, the dowser, in a state of high dudgeon, was speaking of how uppity Makepeace's prentice was, how he dared to tell a dowser how to dowse. “He's got no respect for any man's knack but his own!”
Verily spoke up. “Your Honor, I object. The witness is not competent to testify concerning my client's respect or lack of it toward other people's knacks in general.”
The objection was sustained. Hank Dowser was a quicker learner than Makepeace; there was no more problem with him. He quickly established that the prentice had obviously dug the well in a different place from the place where Hank had declare water could be found.
Verily had only one question for him. “Was there water in the place where he dug the well?”
“That's not the question!” declared Hank Dowser.
“I'm sorry to have to tell you, Mr. Dowser, that I am the one authorized by this court to ask questions at this time, and I tell you that it is the question that I would like you to answer. At this time.”
“What was the question?”
“Did my client's well reach water?”
“It reached a kind of water. But compared to the pure water I found, I'm sure that what he got was a sludgy, scummy, foul-tasting brew.”
“Do I take it that your answer is yes?”
“Yes.”
And that was that.
For his next witness, Marty called a name that sent a shiver down Alvin's spine. “Amy Sump.”
A very attractive girl arose from the back of the courtroom and walked down the aisle.
“Who is she?” asked Verily.
“A girl from Vigor with a very active imagination.”
“About what?”
“About how she and I did what a man has no business doing with a girl so young.”
“Did you?”
Alvin was annoyed by the question. “Never. She just started telling stories and it grew from there.”
“Grew?”
“That's why I took off from Vigor Church, to give her lies a chance to settle down and die out.”
“So she started telling stories about you and youfled?”
“What does it have to do with the plow and Makepeace Smith?”