"Speakin' of veterinaries," chuckled a man with three rolls of fat on his neck, "did y'ever hear the story of the negro and the mule with the cough?" None of them apparently ever had, so the stout brother told all about how--ha, ha!--the mule coughed first. "I remember that story now," remarked one of the jury reminiscently while the fat man glared at him. "If I had my way all these veterinaries would be in jail! They're a dangerous lot. I had a second cousin once who'd paid a hundred dollars--a hundred dollars!--for a horse and it got the colic. So he called in a veterinary and it died." "Well, the vet didn't kill it, did he?" inquired the fat man scornfully. "My cousin always claimed he did!" replied the other solemnly. "There was some mistake about what he gave the horse--wood alcohol or something--I forget what it was. Anyhow, I think they're all a dangerous lot. They all ought to be locked up. I move to convict!" "But neither of these fellers is a veterinary!" retorted a sad-looking gentleman in black. "The charge is that one of 'em pretended to be--but wasn't. So if he wasn't how could you convict him of being a veterinary?" "Well, if he had been I'd have convicted him all right," asserted the first. "They're dangerous--like all these clairvoyants and soothsayers." "Will somebody tell me?" requested a tall man who had been looking intently out of the window, "whether a veterinary is the same thing as a veterinarian? I always supposed a veterinarian was a sort of religion, like a Unitarian. Veteran means old--I thought it was some old form of religion; or a feller who didn't believe in eatin' meat." "Lead that nut out!" shouted somebody. "Let's get busy. The question is: Did this old guy pretend he was a horse doctor when he wasn't? I say he did." "Let's take a vote," suggested Bently. "Vell, let's understand vat we're doin'," admonished the foreman. "Do you gen'l'muns all understand that we're tryin' to convict this feller for doctoring a horse without a prescription?" "You mean a license, don't you?" inquired Bently. "Sure--a license. All right! Let's get a vote." The first ballot resulted in seven for acquittal, four for conviction, and one blank--Bently's. "I don't know who the fellers are that voted for acquittal!" suddenly announced a juror with a red face. "But I know this Brown personally, and he's all right. You can rely on him absolutely. He goes to the same place as me in the summer--Cottage Point. If any of you gentlemen want a good quiet place--" "Any mosquitoes?" inquired an unknown irreverently. "No more'n anywheres else near New York." They took another ballot and found that the juryman who knew Brown had brought over two others to conviction, so that the jury was now evenly divided, Bently voting irresponsibly for acquittal. "Look here!" proposed the man in black. "Let's argue this out. Suppose I put the various propositions and you vote on 'em each separately." "Shoot ahead!" adjured somebody.