“Becoming an angel overnight by the natural piety of the Sidney disposition, eh? Young man, you are lying to me! Now tell me the real reason why you quit your devilishness.”
I had no mind to tell him, and I was silent.
“You had another reason, didn’t you? A better reason?”
I confessed that I had. But I wouldn’t tell him what it was, even when he raised his voice to me and pounded on the table with his fist. If he had been the right kind of a man I would have told him, for a proper man would have been proud of his daughter under those circumstances. But I knew that Judge Kingsley would consider that she had disgraced herself by talking to me.
“You can’t tell the truth—you won’t tell the truth—for the truth isn’t in you,” he stormed. “You are convicted by the tongues of the boys who have owned up.”
“I knew there were sneaks in the crowd—that’s another reason I had for getting out, Judge Kingsley.”
“If anything else happens in this village we shall know where to place the blame.”
“It isn’t fair, Judge Kingsley!” I remonstrated. “I’m not getting a square deal in this thing. I know that old Nute has been talking to you the way he calked to me last night. They are all bound to put the blame on to me.”
“I know for myself.”
“No, sir! You don’t know for yourself. You say I can’t tell the truth! I’ll show you that I can, even when it’s to my own hurt—yes, sir, to my awful hurt! You have advertised for a horse, haven’t you?”