"Now, Clyde, you have taken a solemn oath before this jury, this judge, all these people here, and above all your God, to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You realize what that means, don't you?"
"Yes, sir, I do."
"You swear before God that you did not strike Roberta Alden in that boat?"
"I swear. I did not."
"Or throw her into that lake?"
"I swear it. I did not."
"Or willfully or willingly in any way attempt to upset that boat or in any other fashion bring about the death that she suffered?"
"I swear it!" cried Clyde, emphatically and emotionally.
"You swear that it was an accident—unpremeditated and undesigned by you?"
"I do," lied Clyde, who felt that in fighting for his life he was telling a part of the truth, for that accident was unpremeditated and undesigned. It had not been as he had planned and he could swear to that.
And then Jephson, running one of his large strong hands over his face and looking blandly and nonchalantly around upon the court and jury, the while he compressed his thin lips into a long and meaningful line, announced: "The prosecution may take the witness."