Don took his place at the head of the First Division, just behind the band. Allerton commanded the Second Division. Doris and Becky walked at either side, armed with bundles of handbills which Allerton had printed, urging the public to defend Toby Clark in every possible way, because he was helpless to defend himself.
Then the band struck up a spirited march tune and started down the street with the Marching Club following in splendid order and keeping fairly good step with the music. The white sashes and caps gave the children an impressive appearance and their earnest faces were very good to behold.
To most of the Riverdale people the parade was a real surprise and all were astonished by the numbers and soldierly bearing of the youthful participants. Many a cheer greeted them in the down-town districts, where numerous farmers and their families, who had come to Riverdale for their Saturday shopping, helped to swell the crowd of spectators.
“They ought to told us ’bout this,” said Tom Rathbun the grocer to the group standing outside his store. “We’d ’a’ decorated the town, to give the kids a send-off. I’ve got a sneakin’ notion, myself, as Toby is guilty, but that don’t cut no ice if it amuses the kids to think as he’s innercent.”
“Pah!” returned Griggs the carpenter, with scornful emphasis, “I’m ’shamed o’ you, Tom Rathbun. Can you look in the faces o’ them children, who all know Toby better’n we grown-ups, an’ then say the boy’s guilty?”
“They ain’t got no sense; they’re jest kids,” retorted the grocer.
“Sense? They’re full o’ sense, ’cause they ain’t prejudiced an’ stubborn, like us old ones,” claimed the carpenter. “Children has intuitions; they’ve a way of tellin’ the true from the false in a second, without any argyment. You might fool one youngster, p’raps, but when you see a whole crowd like this declarin’ the innercence of one who they knows through an’ through, you can bet your bottom dollar they’re right!”
A good many thought and argued as old Griggs did; those who had formerly condemned Toby became thoughtful and began to reconsider their judgment; even the most rabid believers in the boy’s guilt were silent in the face of this impressive demonstration and forbore any remarks that might irritate the youthful champions.
The one exception was Dave Hunter, who had developed so strong an antipathy toward Toby that nothing seemed to mollify it. The telegraph office was at the railway station and as Dave stood outside with Wakefield, the station agent, watching the parade pass, he said sneeringly:
“The little fools! What good can they do? We’re not the judge and jury, and if we were we wouldn’t be influenced by a lot of crazy little beggars marching.”