"I notice that this paper is largely composed of advertisements," commented Wetherell. "But the advertisers are apparently scattered all over the world--Chicago; Pittsburgh; Canton; Winnipeg; Albuquerque; Brooklyn; Tripoli; Greenville, Texas; Pueblo; Lawrence, Massachusetts; Providence, Rhode Island; Fall River; Detroit--" "Here's one from Roxbury, Massachusetts, and another from Mexico City," remarked the clerk delightedly. "And here's one from Paris, France," added the stenographer. "Say! Some travelers!" "Well, go on getting the jury," said the judge, yawning again and handing the paper to the clerk. At that moment Mr. Salim Zahoul, the interpreter procured by Mr. Pepperill, approached, bowed and, twisting his purple mustache, addressed the court: "Your Excellence: I haf to zay dat dees papaire eet haf articles on zis affair--ze _memkaha_--zat are not diplomatique." Judge Wetherell blinked at him. "Who's this man?" he demanded. "That's the interpreter," explained W.M.P. "Interpreter!" answered the court. "I can't understand a word he says!" "He was the best I could get," apologized Pepperill, while the countenance of Mr. Zahoul blazed with wrath and humiliation. "It's very difficult to get a fluent interpreter in Arabic." "Well, just interpret what _he_ says to _me_, will you?" kindly requested His Honor. "I zay," suddenly exploded Zahoul--"dees papaire eet half contemptuous article on ze _menkaha_ zat dees Kasheed Hassoun not kill dees Sardi Babu!" "He says," translated Pepperill, "that the newspaper contains an indiscreet article in favor of the defense. I had no idea there would be any improper attempt to influence the jury." "What difference does it make, anyway?" inquired His Honor. "You don't expect any juryman is going to read that thing, do you? Why, it looks as if a bumblebee had fallen into an ink bottle and then had a fit all over the front page." "I don't suppose--" began Pepperill. "Go on and get your jury!" admonished the court. So the lion and the lamb in the shape of Mr. Tutt and Pepperill proceeded to select twelve gentlemen to pass upon the issue who had never been nearer to Syria than the Boardwalk at Atlantic City and who only with the utmost attention could make head or tail of what Mr. Salim Zahoul averred that the witnesses were trying to say. Moreover, most of the talesmen evinced a profound distrust of their own ability to do justice between the People and the defendant and a curious desire to be relieved from service. However, at last the dozen had been chosen and sworn, the congestion of the court room slightly relieved, Mr. Zahoul somewhat appeased, and Mr. William Montague Pepperill rose to outline his very simple case to the jury.