“I am sorry to see you here, my boy,” he said, “but I am sure there is some mistake. I have known you ever since you were a baby, and I don't believe you are guilty of theft now.”
“I submit, Judge Slocum,” said Eben Graham, who sat in a corner, his mean features looking meaner and more insignificant than usual, “I submit that you are prejudging the case.”
“Silence, sir!” said Judge Slocum, warmly. “How dare you impugn my conduct? Though Herbert were my own son, I would give you a chance to prove him guilty.”
“I hope you'll excuse me, judge,” said Eben, cringing. “I am as sorry as you are to believe the boy guilty of stealing.”
“Do your worst and say your worst, Eben Graham!” said Herbert, contemptuously, “but be very careful that you do not swear falsely.”
“I don't need any instructions from you, Herbert Carr, considering that you are a criminal on trial,” said Eben, maliciously.
“You are mistaken, sir,” said George Melville. “To be under arrest does not make a man or boy a criminal.”
“I am sure I am much obliged for the information, Mr. Melville,” said Eben, spitefully. “You've chosen a nice companion.”
“There you are right,” said Melville, gravely. “I have done much better than if I had hired you.”
Eben winced, but did not reply.