The old lawyer smiled blandly--after the fashion of the Hip Leong Tong.
Of course, he admitted, it would be much simpler to dispose of the case
as Mr. Peckham suggested, but his client was insistent upon his
innocence and seemed to have an excellent alibi. He regretted,
therefore, that he had no choice except to go to trial.

"Then," groaned Peckham, "we may as well take the winter for it. After
this there's going to be a closed season on Chinamen in New York City!"

Now though it was true that Mock Hen insisted upon his innocence, he had
not insisted upon it to Mr. Tutt, for the latter had not seen him. In
fact, the old lawyer, recognizing what the law did not, namely that a
system devised for the trial and punishment of Occidentals is totally
inadequate to cope with the Oriental, calmly went about his affairs,
intrusting to Mr. Bonnie Doon of his office the task of interviewing the
witnesses furnished by Wong Get. There was but one issue for the jury to
pass upon. Quong Lee was dead and his honorable soul was with his
illustrious ancestors. He had died from a single blow upon the head,
delivered with an iron bar, there present, to be in evidence, marked
"Exhibit A." Mock Hen was alleged to have done the deed. Had he? There
would be nothing for Mr. Tutt to do but to cross-examine the witnesses
and then call such as could testify to Mock's alibi. So he made no
preparation at all and dismissed the case from his mind. He had hardly
seen a dozen Chinamen in his life--outside of a laundry.

* * * * *

On the morning set for the trial Mr. Tutt, having been delayed by an
accident in the Subway, entered the Criminal Courts Building only a
moment or two before the call of the calendar. Somewhat preoccupied, he