Part 14 (1/2)

”No, I don't, Herbert,” said the constable, ”and it was very much against my will that I started out to arrest you, you may be sure.”

”When do you want me to go with you?” asked Herbert.

”You will go before Justice Sloc.u.m at two o'clock.”

”Is it necessary for me to go to the lockup?” asked Herbert, shrinking, with natural repugnance, from entering the temporary house of tramps and law breakers.

”No, Herbert,” answered the constable, in a friendly tone. ”I'll take it upon myself to let you go home to dinner. I will call for you at quarter of two. Of course I shall find you ready to accompany me?”

”Yes, Mr. Bruce, I am impatient to meet Eben Graham, and tell him to his face that he has been guilty of a mean and contemptible falsehood, in charging me with theft. Not a person in the village who knows me will believe it.”

”I will also call at your house, Herbert,” said George Melville, ”and accompany you to the office of the justice. I shall ask leave to give the details of Eben Graham's visit to me last evening.”

”Thank you, Mr. Melville,” said Herbert, ”I am glad you do not believe a word of this story.”

”I am not so easily deceived, Herbert. It is quite possible that stamps and money have been stolen, but, if so, it is your false friend and accuser who is guilty.”

Of course Herbert had to tell his mother what had happened. She was agitated and alarmed, but became calmer when Herbert told her what was Eben's probable motive in making the charge.

”How can he behave so shamefully!” exclaimed the indignant parent.

”I didn't think him capable of it, myself, mother, although I had a poor opinion of him.”

”Suppose that you can't prove that you are innocent, Herbert?” said Mrs.

Carr, anxiously.

”It is for him to prove that I am guilty, mother,” answered Herbert, who knew this much of law.

At a quarter of two Constable Bruce and Mr. Melville walked to the house together.

The door was opened for them by Herbert himself.

”So you haven't taken leg bail, Herbert,” said the constable, jocosely.

”No, Mr. Bruce, I am on hand; I am in a hurry to meet Mr. Eben Graham and see whether he can look me in the face after his shameful behavior.”

”Oh, Mr. Bruce, I never thought you would call at my home on such an errand,” said Mrs. Carr, on the point of breaking down.

”Don't worry, Mrs. Carr,” said the constable; ”anybody may be charged with theft, however innocent. Your son has good friends who won't see him treated with injustice.”

Herbert's mother was desirous of accompanying them to the office of the justice, but was persuaded to remain behind. Herbert knew that in her indignation she would not be able to be silent when she saw Eben Graham.

Justice Sloc.u.m was an elderly man, with a mild face and gray hair. When Herbert entered he greeted him in a friendly way.

”I am sorry to see you here, my boy,” he said, ”but I am sure there is some mistake. I have known you ever since you were a baby, and I don't believe you are guilty of theft now.”

”I submit, Judge Sloc.u.m,” said Eben Graham, who sat in a corner, his mean features looking meaner and more insignificant than usual, ”I submit that you are prejudging the case.”

”Silence, sir!” said Judge Sloc.u.m, warmly. ”How dare you impugn my conduct? Though Herbert were my own son, I would give you a chance to prove him guilty.”