And yet, one satisfaction remained to me, and that was the sight of Hawkins and Dillingham on the grill under the cross- examination of our attorneys.

Dillingham particularly was a pitiable object, shaking and sweating upon the witness chair, and forced to admit that he had paid Gottlieb and me thirty-five thousand dollars to get him an annulment so that he could marry the woman with whom he was now living.

The court-room was jammed to the doors with a curious crowd, anxious to see Gottlieb and me on trial and to learn the nature of the evidence against us; and when our client left the stand--a pitiful, wilted human creature--and crawled out of the room, a jeering throng followed him downstairs and out into the street.
The actual giving of evidence occupied but two days, the chief witness next to Hawkins being the clerk who swore the latter to his affidavit in my office.

This treacherous rascal not only testified that Hawkins took his oath to the contents of the paper, but at the same time had told me that it was false.

The farce went on, a mere formal giving of testimony, until at length the district attorney announced that he had no more evidence to offer.
"You may proceed with the defence," said the judge, turning to our counsel.
I looked at Gottlieb and Gottlieb looked at me.