The banker nodded stiffly. He did not relish having to hobnob in this way with such a vulgarian as a grafting police captain. Captain Clinton turned to Judge Brewster.
"Now, judge, explode your bomb! But I warn you I've made up my mind."
"I've made up my mind, too," retorted the judge, "so at least we start even."
"Yes," growled the other.
"As I stated in my letter, captain," went on the judge coolly, "I don't want to use your own methods in this matter. I don't want to spread reports about you, or accuse you in the papers. That's why I asked you to come over and discuss the matter informally with me. I want to give you a chance to change your attitude."
"Don't want any chance," growled the policeman.
"You mean," said the judge, peering at his vis à vis over his spectacles, "that you don't want to change your attitude."
Captain Clinton settled himself more firmly in his chair, as if getting ready for hostilities. Defiantly he replied:
"That's about what I mean, I suppose."
"In other words," went on Judge Brewster calmly, "you have found this—this boy guilty and you refuse to consider evidence which may tend to prove otherwise."