"Not much, but something I do know," answered the child meekly. "May
I speak?"
"But you are too young—how old are you?" cried the Mayor, hoping to have found a legal reason for sending away the obtrusive little imp, as he called the child in his heart.
"I am twelve, sir—just twelve."
The Mayor cast an uneasy glance at the Chief's closet and then at the child.
"Sir," said Chester, "I do not know what this poor child desires to say, but it is my wish that she be heard."
"If she is offered as a witness there is no disputing her right to speak," replied his honor, but with a disturbed countenance, and taking a little worn Bible, marked with a broad cross from the desk before him, his honor held it toward the child.
She took the Bible between both her hands and pressed her lips reverently upon it.
"Now," said the Mayor, "what do you wish to say?"
"It was so still out yonder that I could not help but hear—poor Mrs. Chester was very anxious, and I thought perhaps some one might give me good news to carry home."
"This has nothing to do with the matter, child."