It cost some trouble and a good deal of coaxing, but they were got into
their seats at last. The trial was soon ended now. The twins themselves
became witnesses in their own defense. They established the fact, upon
oath, that the leg-power passed from one to the other every Saturday
night at twelve o'clock sharp. But or cross-examination their counsel
would not allow them to tell whose week of power the current week was.
The judge insisted upon their answering, and proposed to compel them, but
even the prosecution took fright and came to the rescue then, and helped
stay the sturdy jurist's revolutionary hand. So the case had to go to
the jury with that important point hanging in the air. They were out an
hour and brought in this verdict:

"We the jury do find: 1, that an assault was committed, as charged;
2, that it was committed by one of the persons accused, he having been
seen to do it by several credible witnesses; 3, but that his identity is
so merged in his brother's that we have not been able to tell which was
him. We cannot convict both, for only one is guilty. We cannot acquit
both, for only one is innocent. Our verdict is that justice has been
defeated by the dispensation of God, and ask to be discharged from
further duty."

This was read aloud in court and brought out a burst of hearty applause.
The old ladies made a spring at the twins, to shake and congratulate, but
were gently disengaged by Mr. Wilson and softly crowded back into their
places.

The judge rose in his little tribune, laid aside his silver-bowed
spectacles, roached his gray hair up with his fingers, and said, with
dignity and solemnity, and even with a certain pathos: