Oh woman, woman! when to ill thy mind
Is bent, all hell contains no fouler fiend.
She had said no word. Between the judge and jury nothing had passed, and yet through the alpha rays of that mysterious medium of communication by which all men as men are united where woman is concerned, the thought was directly transmitted and unanimously acknowledged that here for sure was a hell cat!
It was as naught to them that she testified to the outrageous illegality of the Appleboys' territorial ambitions, the irascibility of the wife, the violent threats of the husband; or that Mrs. Appleboy had been observed to mail a suspicious letter shortly before the date of the canine assault. They disregarded her. Yet when Tutt upon cross-examination sought to attack her credibility by asking her various pertinent questions they unhesitatingly accepted his implied accusations as true, though under the rules of evidence he was bound by her denials.
Peck 1: “Did you not knock Mrs. Appleboy's flower pots off the piazza?” he demanded significantly.
“Never! I never did!” she declared passionately
But they knew in their hearts that she had.
Peck 2: “Didn't you steal her milk bottles?”
“What a lie! It's absolutely false!”
Yet they knew that she did.
Peck 3: “Didn't you tangle up their fish lines and take their thole-pins?”
“Well, I never! You ought to be ashamed to ask a lady such questions!”
They found her guilty.
“I move to dismiss, Your Honor,” chirped Tutt blithely at the conclusion of her testimony.
Judge Witherspoon shook his head.
“I want to hear the other side,” he remarked. “The mere fact that the defendant put up a sign warning the public against the dog may be taken as some evidence that he had knowledge of the animal's vicious propensities. I shall let the case go to the jury unless this evidence is contradicted or explained. Reserve your motion.”
“Very well, Your Honor,” agreed Tutt, patting himself upon the abdomen. “I will follow your suggestion and call the defendant. Mr. Appleboy, take the stand.”
Mr. Appleboy heavily rose and the heart of every fat man upon the jury, and particularly that of the Abyssinian brother upon the back row, went out to him. For just as they had known without being told that the new Mrs. Tunnygate was a vixen, they realized that Appleboy was a kind, good-natured man-a little soft, perhaps, like his clams, but no more dangerous. Moreover, it was plain that he had suffered and was, indeed, still suffering, and they had pity for him. Appleboy's voice shook and so did the rest of his person as he recounted his ancient friendship for Tunnygate and their piscatorial association, their common matrimonial experiences, the sudden change in the temperature of the society of Throggs Neck, the malicious destruction of their property and the unexplained aggressions of Tunnygate upon the lawn. And the jury, believing, understood.
Then like the sword of Damocles the bessemer voice of Pepperill severed the general atmosphere of amiability: “Where did you get that dog?”
Mr. Appleboy looked round helplessly, distress pictured in every feature.
“My wife's aunt lent it to us.”
“How did she come to lend it to you?”
“Bashemath wrote and asked for it.”
“Oh! Did you know anything about the dog before you sent for it?”
“Of your own knowledge?” interjected Tutt sharply.
“Oh, no!” returned Appleboy.
“Didn't you know it was a vicious beast?” sharply challenged Pepperill.
“Of your own knowledge?” again warned Tutt.
“I'd never seen the dog.”
“Didn't your wife tell you about it?”
Tutt sprang to his feet, wildly waving his arms: “I object; on the ground that what passed between husband and wife upon this subject must be regarded as confidential.”
“I will so rule,” said Judge Witherspoon, smiling. “Excluded.”
Pepperill shrugged his shoulders.
“I would like to ask a question,” interpolated the editor of Baby's World.
“Do!” exclaimed Tutt eagerly.
The editor, who was a fat editor, rose in an embarrassed manner.
“Mr. Appleboy!” he began.
“Yes, sir!” responded Appleboy.
“I want to get this straight. You and your wife had a row with the Tunnygates. He tried to tear up your front lawn. You warned him off. He kept on doing it. You got a dog and put up a sign and when he disregarded it you sicked the dog on him. Is that right?”
He was manifestly friendly, merely a bit cloudy in the cerebellum. The Abyssinian brother pulled him sharply by the coat tails.
“Sit down,” he whispered hoarsely. “You're gumming it all up.”
“I didn't sic Andrew on him!” protested Appleboy.
“But I say, why shouldn't he have?” demanded the baby's editor. “That's what anybody would do!”
Pepperill sprang frantically to his feet.
“Oh, I object! This juryman is showing bias. This is entirely improper.”
“I am, am I?” sputtered the fat editor angrily. “I'll show you-”
“You want to be fair, don't you?” whined Pepperill. “I've proved that the Appleboys had no right to hedge in the beach!”
“Oh, pooh!” sneered the Abyssinian, now also getting to his feet. “Supposing they hadn't? Who cares a damn? This man Tunnygate deserved all he's got!”
“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” expostulated the judge firmly. “Take your seats or I shall declare a mistrial. Go on, Mr. Tutt. Call your next witness.”
“Mrs. Appleboy,” called out Tutt, “will you kindly take the chair?” And that good lady, looking as if all her adipose existence had been devoted to the production of the sort of pies that mother used to make, placidly made her way to the witness stand.
“Did you know that Andrew was a vicious dog?” inquired Tutt.
“No!” answered Mrs. Appleboy firmly. “I didn't.”
O woman!
“That is all,” declared Tutt with a triumphant smile.
“Then,” snapped Pepperill, “why did you send for him?”
“I was lonely,” answered Bashemath unblushingly.
“Do you mean to tell this jury that you didn't know that that dog was one of the worst biters in Livornia?”
“I do!” she replied. “I only knew Aunt Eliza had a dog. I didn't know anything about the dog personally.”
“What did you say to your aunt in your letter?”
“I said I was lonely and wanted protection.”
“Didn't you hope the dog would bite Mr. Tunnygate?”
“Why, no!” she declared. “I didn't want him to bite anybody.”
At that the delicatessen man poked the plumber in the ribs and they both grinned happily at one another.
Pepperill gave her a last disgusted look and sank back in his seat.
“That is all!” he ejaculated feebly.
“One question, if you please, madam,” said Judge Witherspoon. “May I be permitted to”-he coughed as a suppressed snicker ran round the court-“that is-may I not-er-Oh, look here! How did you happen to have the idea of getting a dog?”
Mrs. Appleboy turned the full moon of her homely countenance upon the court.
“The potato peel came down that way!” she explained blandly.
“What!” exploded the dealer in rubber novelties.
“The potato peel-it spelled 'dog,'“ she repeated artlessly.
“Lord!” deeply suspirated Pepperill. “What a case! Carry me out!”
“Well, Mr. Tutt,” said the judge, “now I will hear what you may wish to say upon the question of whether this issue should be submitted to the jury. However, I shall rule that the indictment is sufficient.”
Tutt elegantly rose.
“Having due respect to Your Honor's ruling as to the sufficiency of the indictment I shall address myself simply to the question of scienter. I might, of course, dwell upon the impropriety of charging the defendant with criminal responsibility for the act of another free agent even if that agent be an animal-but I will leave that, if necessary, for the Court of Appeals. If anybody were to be indicted in this case I hold it should have been the dog Andrew. Nay, I do not jest! But I can see by Your Honor's expression that any argument upon that score would be without avail.”