The thing was, as he had carefully explained to Bonnie Doon, to prove
that Mock was a good Chinaman and, if the jury did not believe that
there was any such animal, to convince them that it was possible. His
first task, however, was to polish off the Chinese testimony by calling
the witnesses who had been secured under the guidance of Wong Get. He
admitted afterward that in view of the exclusion law he had not supposed
there were so many Chinamen in the United States, for they crowded the
corridors and staircases of the Criminal Courts Building, arriving in
companies--the Wong family, the Mocks, the Fongs, the Lungs, the Sues,
and others of the sacred Hip Sing Society from near at hand and from
distant parts--from Brooklyn and Flatbush, from Flushing and Far
Rockaway, from Hackensack and Hoboken, from Trenton and Scranton, from
Buffalo and Saratoga, from Chicago and St. Louis, and each and every one
of them swore positively upon the severed neck of the whitest
rooster--the broken fragments of the whitest of porcelain plates--the
holiest of books--that he had been present in person at Fulton Market in
New York City at precisely four-fifteen o'clock in the afternoon and
assisted Mock Hen, the defendant, in selecting and purchasing a terrapin
for stew.

Mr. Tutt grinned at the jury and the jury grinned affectionately back at
Mr. Tutt. Indeed, after the length of time they had all been together
they had almost as much respect for him as for the judge upon the bench.
The whole court seemed to be a sort of Tutt Club, of which even O'Brien
was a member.

"Now," said Mr. Tutt, "I will call a few witnesses to show you what kind
of a man this is whom these highbinders accuse of the crime of murder!"

Mock, rolling his eyes heavenward, assumed an expression of infantile