"Call David Sovine," he said, wiping his brow and looking relieved. "David Sovine! David Sovine! David Sovine!" cried the sheriff in due and ancient form, though David sat almost within whispering distance of him. The witness stood up. "Howld up your roight hand," said the clerk. Then when Dave's right hand was up Magill rattled off the form of the oath in the most approved and clerkly style, only adding to its effect by the mild brogue of his pronunciation. "Do sol'm swear 't yull tell th' truth, th' 'ole truth, en nuthin' b' th' truth, s' yilpye God," said the clerk, without once pausing for breath. Sovine ducked his head and dropped his hand, and the solemnity was over. Dave, who was evidently not accustomed to stand before such a crowd, appeared embarrassed. He had deteriorated in appearance lately. His patent-leather shoes were bright as ever, his trousers were trimly held down by straps, his hair was well kept in place by bear's oil or what was sold for bear's oil, but there was a nervousness in his expression and carriage that gave him the air of a man who has been drinking to excess. Tom looked at him with defiance, but Dave was standing at the right of the judge, while the prisoner's dock was on the left, and the witness did not regard Tom at all, but told his story with clearness. Something of the bold assurance which he displayed at the inquest was lacking. His coarse face twitched and quivered, and this appeared to annoy him; he sought to hide it by an affectation of nonchalance, as he rested his weight now on one foot and now on the other. "Do you know the prisoner?" asked the prosecutor, with a motion of his head toward the dock. "Yes, well enough"; but in saying this Dave did not look toward Tom, but out of the window. "You've played cards with him, haven't you?" "Yes." "Tell his Honor and the jury when and where you played with him." "We played one night last July, in Wooden & Snyder's store." "Who proposed to Tom to play with you?" "George Lockwood. He hollered up the stove-pipe for Tom to come down an' take a game or two with me." "What did you win that night from Tom?" "Thirteen dollars, an' his hat an' coat an' boots, an' his han'ke'chi'f an' knife." "Who, if anybody, lent him the money to get back his things which you had won?" "George Lockwood." Here the counsel paused a moment, laid down a memorandum he had been using, and looked about his table until he found another; then he resumed his questions. "Tell the jury whether you were at the Timber Creek camp-meeting on the 9th of August." "Yes; I was." "What did you see there? Tell about the shooting."