In desperation, Bill bawled at the top of his voice:  “I call on Detective Bluegum to restore order in the Court.”

Bunyip ran into the witness-box and, with a ready wit, shouted I have dreadful news to impart to this honourable Court.”

All eyes, of course, turned on Bunyip, who, raising his hand with an impressive gesture, said in thrilling tones:  “From information received, it has been discovered that the Puddin’ was poisoned at ten-thirty this morning.”

This news restored order at once.  The Judge turned pale as lard, and the Usher, having a darker complexion, turned as pale as soap.  The Puddin’ couldn’t turn pale, so he let out a howl of terror.

“Poisoned,” said the Usher, feebly.  “How, how?”

“Poisoned,” said the Judge, feeling his stomach with trembling hands.  “Until this moment I was under the delusion that a somewhat unpleasant sensation of being, as it were, distended, was merely due to having eaten seven slices.  But if—­”

“If,” said the Usher, in a quavering voice—­

“If you take a poisoned Puddin’
  And that poisoned Puddin’ chew,
The sensations that you suffer
  I should rather say were due
To the poison in the Puddin’
  In the act of Poisoning You. 
And I think the fact suffices
  Through this dreadfulest of crimes,
As you’ve eaten seven slices
  You’ve been poisoned seven times.”

“It was your idea having it up on the bench,” said the Judge, angrily, to the Usher.  “Now,

“If what you say is true,
That idea you’ll sadly rue,
The poison I have eaten is entirely due to you. 
It’s by taking your advice
That I’ve had my seventh slice,
So I’ll tell you what I’ll do
You unmitigated Jew,
As a trifling satisfaction,
Why, I’ll beat you black and blue,”

and with that he hit the Usher a smart crack on the head with a port bottle.

“Don’t strike a poisoned man,” shouted the Usher; but the Judge went on smacking and cracking him with the bottle, singing—­

“The emotion of pity
  Need never be sought
In a Judge who’s been poisoned
  By Puddin’ and Port.”

In desperation, the Usher leapt off the Bench, and landed head first in the dock, where he stuck like a sardine.

“Too bad, too bad,” shouted the puddin’-thieves.  “Crowding in here where there’s only room for two.”  Before they could get rid of the Usher, the Judge bounded over the bench and commenced whacking them with the bottle, singing—­

“As I find great satisfaction
  Hitting anybody who
Can offer that distraction,
  Why, I’ll have a go at you.”

and he went on bounding and whacking away with the bottle, while the puddin’-thieves kept roaring, and the Usher kept screaming.  The uproar was deafening.

“Just listen to it,” said Bill, in despair.  “I’d like to know how on earth we are going to finish the case with all this umptydoodle rumpus going on.”