"I thank your Honor," said the Colonel slowly, "for recognizing and
doing all in your power to prevent an interruption that, during my
thirty years' experience at the bar, I have never been subjected
to without the privilege of holding the instigators thereof
responsible--PERSONALLY responsible. It is possibly my fault that I have
failed, oratorically, to convey to the gentlemen of the jury the full
force and significance of the defendant's signals. I am aware that my
voice is singularly deficient in producing either the dulcet tones of my
fair client or the impassioned vehemence of the defendant's response.
I will," continued the Colonel, with a fatigued but blind fatuity that
ignored the hurriedly knit brows and warning eyes of the Judge, "try
again. The note uttered by my client" (lowering his voice to the
faintest of falsettos) "was 'Keeree;' the response was 'Keerow-ow.'" And
the Colonel's voice fairly shook the dome above him.

Another uproar of laughter followed this apparently audacious
repetition, but was interrupted by an unlooked-for incident. The
defendant rose abruptly, and tearing himself away from the withholding
hand and pleading protestations of his counsel, absolutely fled from
the court-room, his appearance outside being recognized by a prolonged
"Keerow" from the bystanders, which again and again followed him in the
distance.

In the momentary silence which followed, the Colonel's voice was heard
saying, "We rest here, your Honor," and he sat down. No less white, but
more agitated, was the face of the defendant's counsel, who instantly
rose.

"For some unexplained reason, your Honor, my client desires to suspend