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 “that you do not wish to question the people’s witnesses?”

Browning shot him a look, caught only by his Honor, which said plainly he wished no interference from the bench. It was not an arrogant, not an impertinent glance, and Judge Winterhouse felt somehow reassured that the defense of the accused lay not in incompetent hands and that Browning was abundantly able to take care of himself. He felt more so after Browning’s brief reply to his question.

“The witnesses,” said Browning courteously, “seem to be telling the truth. I am content.”

Browning’s opening to the jury was brief. “Gentlemen of the jury,” he said in a conversational tone, “we admit the shooting. Angus Burke yonder fired the gun which killed Sheriff Bates. He fired that gun in circumstances which, to him, justified him in shooting and shooting to kill. I shall prove to you that Angus Burke fired in self-defense, in defense of his home, such as it was, and of his mother…. I shall prove that he was justified in believing it necessary to shoot to save his own life. This I shall prove by one witness—the defendant.” He turned to Angus and spoke kindly, casually.

“Will you go and sit in that chair, Angus?” He pointed to the witness box.

Angus complied stolidly. He looked about