“I am!”
“You are?” and the constable sneered. “I’d like t’ know where ye got two thousand dollars t’ go on anybody’s bail. Ye ain’t worth more’n two hundred dollars.”
“I must require good security,” hastily interposed Justice Perkfell. “Very good security.”
“And I can furnish it!” exclaimed the veteran, standing close beside Dan, as though he would protect the boy. “I will go on this boy’s bond for a thousand—yes, for ten thousand dollars, for I know he is innocent!”
“Talk’s cheap, but it takes money t’ go on bail bonds,” came from Constable Walker. “Everybody knows ye ain’t got no ten thousand dollars, Mr. Harrison.”
“Then everybody is mistaken,” replied the sturdy old blacksmith with a smile. “I was not worth ten thousand dollars a few days ago, but I am now. Justice Perkfell, I’ll ask you to look at those papers,” and he handed the Squire a bundle of documents.
The old justice adjusted his glasses and began to examine the documents, while the crowd waited impatiently.
“Does that show whether I can qualify in the sum of two thousand dollars and go on Dan’s bond?” asked the veteran.
“Ahem! I—er—must admit it does,” replied the Squire. “I must, under the law accept you as bondsman for the prisoner, if you desire to take that responsibility.”
“I certainly do.”