Lallapaloosa Limited
"Twelve years, Your Honor."
"Who is Wilson W. Elderberry?"
"He is the secretary of the Horse's Neck Extension, Your Honor."
"Is he in court?"
From a distant corner Mr. Elderberry bashfully rose.
"Come here!" ordered the court. And the Pooh-Bah of the Scherer-Hunn-Greenbaum-Beck enterprises came cringing to the bar.
"Did you sign this circular in 1914?" demanded Judge Pollak.
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Were the statements contained in it true?"
Elderberry squirmed.
"Ye-es, Your Honor. That is—they were to the best of my knowledge and belief. I was, of course, obliged to take what information was at hand—and—er—and"
"Did you sign the other circular, issued last month, to the effect that the mine was practically valueless?"
"Yes, sir." Elderberry studiously examined the moldings on the cornice of the judge's canopy.
"Um!" remarked the court significantly.
There was a flurry among the tall hats. Then Mr. Greenbaum sprang to his feet.
"If you please, Your Honor," he announced, staccato, "we entirely disavow Mr. Elderberry's
297
