Walter had asked himself that question many a time, and his bosom had swelled with resentment at the act; but now, when Jessie, too, questioned the justice of the proceeding, he answered:
"It was right I suppose,—all right. Mr. Graham believed that to which he testified, and when he left the stand he wound his arms around my father's neck and said:
"'God forgive me, Seth, I couldn't help it.'"
"But he could," said Jessie; "he needn't have told all he knew."
Walter made no reply to this; he merely went on with his story:
"Then the decision came. There was proof sufficient for the case to be presented before the grand jury, and unless bail could be found to the amount of one thousand dollars, my father must go to jail, there to await his trial at the county court, which would hold its next session in three weeks. When the decision was made known, my father pressed his hands tightly over his heart for a moment, and then he clasped them to his ears as the deep stillness in the room was broken by the plaintive cry:
"'Save my husband, somebody. Oh, save my darling husband!'
"The next moment my mother fell at his feet, a crushed, lifeless thing, her hair falling down her face and a blue, pinched look about her lips, while my father bent over her, his tears falling like rain upon her face. Everybody cried, and when the question was asked, 'Who will go the prisoner's bail?' your father answered aloud:
"'I will.'"
"Oh, I am so glad!" gasped Jessie, while Walter continued: