offered me a cigarette.

"May it please your Honor," began the District Attorney, "I do not deem
it necessary to submit any evidence in this case. Under the law of the
land you sit here as a committing magistrate. It is therefore your duty
to commit. Testimony and argument alike would imply a doubt that your
Honor means to perform your sworn duty. That is my case."

My counsel, a brother of the deceased Coroner, rose and said: "May it
please the Court, my learned friend on the other side has so well and
eloquently stated the law governing in this case that it only remains
for me to inquire to what extent it has been already complied with. It
is true, your Honor is a committing magistrate, and as such it is your
duty to commit--what? That is a matter which the law has wisely and
justly left to your own discretion, and wisely you have discharged
already every obligation that the law imposes. Since I have known your
Honor you have done nothing but commit. You have committed embracery,
theft, arson, perjury, adultery, murder--every crime in the calendar and
every excess known to the sensual and depraved, including my learned
friend, the District Attorney. You have done your whole duty as a
committing magistrate, and as there is no evidence against this worthy
young man, my client, I move that he be discharged."

An impressive silence ensued. The Judge arose, put on the black cap and
in a voice trembling with emotion sentenced me to life and liberty. Then
turning to my counsel he said, coldly but significantly:

"I will see you later."

The next morning the lawyer who had so conscientiously defended me