Mock Hen and Mock Turtle
policemen and the miscellaneous human flotsam and jetsam that always manages somehow or other to find its way to a murder trial. Inside the rail O'Brien, the assistant district attorney, was busy in conversation with three cueless Chinamen in American clothes. At the bar sat Mock Hen with Mr. Tutt beside him, flanked by Wong Get, Tutt, Bonnie Doon and Buddha.
The judge beckoned Mr. Tutt and O'Brien to the front of the bench.
"Is there any chance of disposing of this case by a plea?" he inquired.
O'Brien looked expectantly at Mr. Tutt, who shook his head. The judge shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, how long is it going to take?"
"About six weeks," answered the old lawyer quietly.
"What!" ejaculated judge and prosecutor in unison.
"A day or two less, perhaps," affirmed Mr. Tutt, "but, likely as not, considerably longer."
"I shall cut it down as much as I can," announced the judge, appalled at the prospect. "I shall not permit this trial to be dragged out indefinitely."
"Nothing would please me better, Your Honor," said Mr. Tutt with the shadow of a smile. "Shall we proceed to select the jury?"
The accuracy of Mr. Tutt's prophecy as to the
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