"Of course. You're coming home with us. That chap Spofford is not an absolute fool, even if he is a plain-clothes man. By the time he's thought over two or three little things, he'll be back again. And he might get somebody to swear out a warrant. Might even take a chance and arrest without it. But if you're in my house, there'll be lots of hesitation about warrants and things like that until there's been more evidence brought forward. And there won't be. Hurry along, young lady."
Clancy stared at him.
"Do you know," she said slowly, "I want to cry."
"Certainly you do. Perfectly correct. Cry away, my dear!"
Clancy suddenly grinned.
"I want to laugh even more," she said. "Judge Walbrough, you're the dearest, kindest— I can't let you do it."
"Do what?" demanded the judge.
"Why, tell lies for me. They'll jail you, and——"
Judge Walbrough winked broadly at Randall.
"I guess that wouldn't bother you, would it, Mr. Randall? Jail for a girl like Miss Deane? Then I think an old-timer like myself has a right to do something that a young man would be wild to do—even if he has a jealous wife who hates every woman who looks at him."