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The
sacred
volume
is
presented
to
him
in
due
form
;
which
,
after
repeating
the
well-known
words
of
the
"
affidavit
,
"
Zeb
is
directed
to
kiss
.
He
performs
this
operation
with
a
smack
sufficiently
sonorous
to
be
heard
to
the
extreme
outside
circle
of
the
assemblage
.
Despite
the
solemnity
of
the
scene
,
there
is
an
audible
tittering
,
instantly
checked
by
the
judge
;
a
little
,
perhaps
,
by
Zeb
himself
,
whose
glance
,
cast
inquiringly
around
,
seems
to
search
for
some
one
,
that
may
be
seen
with
a
sneer
upon
his
face
.
The
character
of
the
man
is
too
well
known
,
for
any
one
to
suppose
he
might
make
merry
at
his
expense
;
and
before
his
searching
glance
the
crowd
resumes
,
or
affects
to
resume
,
its
composure
.
After
a
few
preliminary
questions
,
Zeb
is
invited
to
give
his
version
of
the
strange
circumstances
,
which
,
have
been
keeping
the
Settlement
in
a
state
of
unwonted
agitation
.
The
spectators
prick
up
their
ears
,
and
stand
in
expectant
silence
.
There
is
a
general
impression
that
Zeb
holds
the
key
to
the
whole
mystery
.
"
Wal
,
Mister
Judge
!
"
says
he
,
looking
straight
in
the
face
of
that
cigar-smoking
functionary
;
"
I
've
no
objection
to
tell
what
I
know
'
beout
the
bizness
;
but
ef
it
be
all
the
same
to
yurself
,
an
the
Jewry
hyur
,
I
'd
preefar
that
the
young
fellur
shed
gie
his
varsion
fust
.
I
kud
then
foller
wi
'
mine
,
the
which
mout
sartify
and
confirm
him
.
"
"
Of
what
young
fellow
do
you
speak
?
"
inquires
the
judge
.
"
The
mowstanger
thur
,
in
coorse
.
Him
as
stan
's
'
cused
o
'
killin
'
young
Peintdexter
.
"
"
It
would
be
somewhat
irregular
,
"
rejoins
the
judge
--
"
After
all
,
our
object
is
to
get
at
the
truth
.
For
my
part
,
I
have
n't
much
faith
in
old-fashioned
forms
;
and
if
the
jury
do
n't
object
,
let
it
be
as
you
say
.
"
