motorman telegraphed appealingly to the company's lawyer. The judge
ordered him to answer the question.

"There were no passengers on the car," the man, now thoroughly confused,
murmured inconsequently.

Waterman bent his head and took another cue from Phil, then strode
majestically toward the witness.

"There were no passengers on your car? Why not?" he thundered.

"Why not what?" faltered the witness.

"I ask you, sir, if it isn't true that there was a passenger waiting at
Stop 7 and that you ran by that crossing because your brake wouldn't
work?"

The witness looked at Phil and involved himself in difficulty by
admitting that the car's speed was such that he was unable to see
clearly whether any passenger was waiting at Stop 7. After sparring
between counsel, Phil was placed upon the stand and sworn to tell the
whole truth. Main Street had heard that something unusual was happening
in the circuit court and the room filled.

Her name, she testified, was Phil Kirkwood. (She always signed herself
Phil at school, distrusting Phyllis as high-falutin'.)

"Otherwise Phyllis," interposed the judge soberly. "It is essential that
the record identify all witnesses beyond per-adventure."

The audience tittered. Phil began her story. She had been spending the
Fourth of July at her Uncle Amzi's farm, but wanted to return home
before her uncle was ready, to attend a party. There was no question of
the time, as she had walked across the fields to that particular stop to
meet the car on its scheduled hour. She had stood upon the track and
waved the flag placed in the shed at the stop for that purpose, but to
her disgust the car had rushed by at full speed. She had heard the
hissing of the air as the car whirled by, and there being no other car
for an hour she had been obliged to return to the farm and wait for her
uncle to drive her in.

Counsel for defendant, a stranger to the ways of Montgomery, who had
come from Indianapolis to try the case, asked Phil ironically if she
were an expert in the management of a trolley car.

"Oh, I shouldn't say that," said Phil; "but I used to ride with motormen
sometimes, back and forth to the farm, and they let me stop and start
the car."

She explained that she knew from the sound as the air went on that the
brake was out of order. The twelve good men and true in the jury box
bent forward attentively as she met the lawyer's questions. He was a
young man and Phil was undeniably prett