Then Sharpman continued, more vehemently: "The cross-examination, as conducted by the eminent counsel, has, thus far, been simply an outrage on professional courtesy. I ask now that the gentleman be confined to questions which are germane to the issue and decently put."
"I have but a few more questions to ask," said Goodlaw.
Turning to the witness again, he continued: "If you succeed in establishing this boy"s ident.i.ty, you will have a bill to present for care and moneys expended and services performed on his account, will you not?"
"I expect so; yes, sir."
"As the service continued through a period of years, the bill will amount now to quite a large sum, I presume?"
"Yes, I nave done a good deal for the boy."
"You expect to retain the usual commission for your services as guardian, do you not?"
"I do."
"And to control the moneys and properties that may come into your hands?"
"Well--yes."
"About how much money, all together, do you expect to make out of this estate?"
"I do not look on it in that light, sir; I am taking these proceedings simply to compel you and your client to give that boy his rights."
This impudent a.s.sertion angered Goodlaw, who well knew the object of the plot, and he rose from his chair, saying deliberately:--
"Do you mean to swear that this is not a deep-laid scheme on the part of you and your attorney to wrest from this estate enough to make a fortune for you both? Do you mean to say mat you care as much for this boy"s rights as you do for the dust in your path?"
Craft"s face paled, and Sharpman started to his feet, red with pa.s.sion.
"This is the last straw!" he exclaimed, hoa.r.s.ely; "now I intend"--
But the judge, fearing an uncontrollable outbreak of temper, interrupted him, saying:--
"Your witness need not answer the question in that form, Mr. Sharpman.
Mr. Goodlaw, do you desire to cross-examine the witness further?"
Goodlaw had resumed his seat and was turning over his papers.
"I do not care to take up the time of the court any longer," he said, "with this witness."
"Then, Mr. Sharpman, you may proceed with further evidence."
But Sharpman was still smarting from the blow inflicted by his opponent. "I desire, first," he said, "that the court shall take measures to protect me and my client from the unfounded and insulting charges of counsel for the defence."
"We will see," said the judge, "that no harm comes to you or to your cause from irrelevant matter interjected by counsel. But let us get on with the case. We are taking too much time."
Sharpman turned again to his papers and called the name of "Anthony Henderson."
An old man arose in the audience, and made his way feebly to the witness-stand, which had just been vacated by Craft.
After he had been sworn, he said, in reply to questions by Sharpman, that he was a resident of St. Louis; that in May, 1859, he was on his way east with his little grandson, and went down with the train that broke through the bridge at Cherry Brook.
He said that before the crash came he had noticed a lady and gentleman sitting across the aisle from him, and a nurse and child a few seats further ahead; that his attention had been called to the child particularly, because he was a boy and about the age of his own little grandson.
He said he was on the train that carried the rescued pa.s.sengers to Philadelphia after the accident, and that, pa.s.sing through the car, he had seen the same child who had been with the nurse now sitting with an old man; he was sure the child was the same, as he stopped and looked at him closely. The features of the old man he could not remember. For two days he searched for his grandson, but being met, on every hand, by indisputable proof that the child had perished in the wreck, he then started on his return journey to St. Louis, and had not since been east until the week before the trial.
"How did the plaintiff in this case find you out?" asked Goodlaw, on cross-examination.
"I found him out," replied the witness. "I learned, from the newspapers, that the trial was to take place; and, seeing that it related to the Cherry Brook disaster, I came here to learn what little else I might in connection with my grandchild"s death. I went, first, to see the counsel for the plaintiff and his client."
"Have you learned anything new about your grandson?"
"No, sir; nothing."
"Have you heard from him since the accident?"
"I have not."
"Are you sure he is dead?"
"I have no doubt of it."
"Can you recognize this boy," pointing to Ralph, "as the one whom you saw with the nurse and afterward with the old man on the night of the accident?"
"Oh, no! he was a mere baby at that time."
"Are you positive that the boy in court is not your grandson?"
"Perfectly positive, there is not the slightest resemblance."
"That will do."
The cross-examination had done little more than to strengthen the direct testimony. Mrs. Burnham had thrown aside her veil and gazed intently at the witness from the moment he went on the stand. She recognized him as the man who sat across the aisle from her, with his grandchild, on the night of the disaster, and she knew that he was telling the truth. There seemed to be no escape from the conclusion that it was her child who went down to the city that night with Simon Craft. Was it her child who escaped from him, and wandered, sick and dest.i.tute, almost to her own door? Her thought was interrupted by the voice of Sharpman, who had faced the crowded court-room and was calling the name of another witness: "Richard Lyon!"
A young man in short jacket and plaid trousers took the witness-stand.
"What is your occupation?" asked Sharpman, after the man had given his name and residence.
"I"m a driver for Farnum an" Furkison."
"Who are Farnum and Furkison?"
"They run the Great European Circus an" Menagerie."
"Have you ever seen this boy before?" pointing to Ralph.
"Yes, sir."