I
“Don’t go away for a moment, Mr. Hammond.” Hammond watching the police with Rev. Nathan Stubbs as their captive disappeared up street, turned to see Martin Winch, the lawyer, hurry to his desk telephone.
“One—O—Two—Seven, North,” he called. “Bairdwell and Simms?—Could I speak to Mr. Simms?— Hello, Simms, Martin Winch of Winch, Stanton and Reid speaking— Simms, would you care to handle a police court case for us?— Yes, right away, if we can arrange the preliminary hearing for this afternoon— It’s a client of ours, Rev. Nathan Stubbs— Some trivial charge, yes— What we want is to get bail arranged, but there are reasons why we can’t very well be identified with the case just for the present— Will explain all that when I see you— Could you slip over to the district police court right now— Hold things until I get there with the bondsmen— That’s very decent of you, Simms, thank you.”
“We’re bound for the police station,” Winch explained as he hustled Hammond down the stairs to the street and into his car at the curb. “It might be essential to have you there, but whatever occurs keep a still mouth unless I tell you. Simms will do all the talking that is necessary.”
On the way Winch stopped opposite the entrance to a business block, and, leaving Hammond in the car, hustled upstairs. Presently, he returned with two other men who jumped into the rear seat of the car and Winch started the machine without taking time to introduce them to Hammond.
Winch led the way into the district magistrate’s office, where Rev. Nathan Stubbs was already arraigned before the magistrate. The two mounted police were swearing out papers for his incarceration on a nominal charge of vagrancy. Winch motioned Hammond to a seat in the rear of the auditorium and sat down beside him, while the two strangers, whom Hammond surmised were the bondsmen, went on up and inside the rail, where they were met by a sleek-looking young man, who, he knew, must be Simms. The prisoner straightened and a distinct look of relief came over his face.
It was all very formal, very monotonous, as preliminary hearings usually are. There was very little talking, and most of it in an undertone that didn’t carry to the point where Hammond and Winch were sitting. The most audible sound was the scratching of the magistrate’s pen. Finally it ceased, bail was put up and the magistrate announced the case adjourned until the following morning.
Winch asked Hammond to wait a moment and went forward and joined the group around the accused, now temporarily a free man on one thousand dollars security put up by the two strangers. Hammond was convinced Winch supplied the collateral.
The magistrate arose from his desk, and with customary abruptness the courtroom cleared. Winch, Simms, Rev. Nathan Stubbs and the two bondsmen left the building through a side door. Hammond found himself alone.
He was about to go in search of Winch when the latter appeared at the public entrance. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Hammond,” he apologised. “In my haste to get this beastly matter straightened out I had forgotten about you for the moment. As it happened, we did not need you, and I have to leave you to your own resources for a little while.
“Could you come up to my office, say in an hour?” Winch looked at his watch. “It’s almost five now. Come up at six. You can’t get back to the limits now until to-morrow morning at the earliest, and it is extremely important I should have a talk with you before you go.”
The arrangement did not appeal as any too attractive to the young man, particularly in view of what happened at his afternoon interview with the lawyer, but he promised to abide by it.