Mr. Jenkyns seemed to be an extremely young man with a round smooth face like a boy. He shook hands with me and then immediately turned and went on talking with the Doctor.
"Oh, I think it is a perfectly precious idea," he was saying. "Of course the dog must be admitted as a witness; he was the only one who saw the thing take place. I'm awfully glad you came. I wouldn't have missed this for anything. My hat! Won't it make the old court sit up? They're always frightfully dull, these Assizes. But this will stir things. A bulldog witness for the defense! I do hope there are plenty of reporters present—Yes, there's one making a sketch of the prisoner. I shall become known after this—And won't Conkey be pleased? My hat!"
He put his hand over his mouth to smother a laugh and his eyes fairly sparkled with mischief.
"Who is Conkey?" I asked the Doctor.
"Sh! He is speaking of the judge up there, the Honorable Eustace Beauchamp Conckley."
"Now," said Mr. Jenkyns, bringing out a notebook, "tell me a little more about yourself, Doctor. You took your degree as Doctor of Medicine at Durham, I think you said. And the name of your last book was?"
I could not hear any more for they talked in whispers; and I fell to looking round the court again.
