The truth was that Allison so yearned to see Gerald that she had made an errand to the bank for that very purpose, when, upon inquiring for him, she had learned the truth, and then, nearly wild with grief, hastened to the courthouse with the hope of being able to help him in some way.
“Order!” some one now called out, for the judge was still waiting for the prosecuting-attorney to return to his seat.
“Who brought this charge against Gerald?” Allison questioned eagerly, but lowering her voice.
“I did,” returned her companion, now white with anger, as he realized that she would not yield to him, and had some definite purpose in view.
“You? Why did you do it?” Allison demanded, with blazing eyes.
“Because I caught him in the act of stealing from the vault of the bank.”
“Never! Gerald could not be guilty of theft,” whispered the girl hoarsely.
“Unfortunately, his guilt has been proven. Now will you come?” And the man laid an authoritative hand upon her arm.
She drew herself haughtily away from him, and, turning, bent her gaze upon Gerald, who was responding to some question just put to him by his counsel.