"You are the fellow that stole the money Ethan sent me," squealed Miss Larrabee, as I entered the office.
"Not much," I replied.
"O, but I know you did it; Ham Fishley says so, and I reckon he knows who took it."
"I reckon he does, too," I answered, as I took a seat assigned to me by the constable.
Captain Fishley and Ham soon appeared, attended by the squire, the latter of whom, to the apparent horror of his brother, took the trouble to come to me, and cordially shake my hand.
"You ought to have told me about this trouble before," said he, in a whisper.
"I meant to keep my promise, whatever happened to me," I replied, cheered by his kindness and good will.
Ham Fishley looked very pale, and his father looked very ugly. Quite a number of witnesses were present, including the postmaster of Riverport. The examination was commenced, and I pleaded not guilty. Clarence had employed the smartest lawyer in town to manage my case, and I had had a long talk with him the night before. The missing letter was traced to the Riverport office, after which it had disappeared. Captain Fishley swore that I brought the mail up to Torrentville, and Ham that he had seen me counting what appeared to be a large sum of money, on the night when the letter should have arrived, according to the testimony of the postmaster at Riverport, who distinctly remembered the address.
Then Ham was placed "on the gridiron," and slowly broiled by Squire Pollard, the lawyer who managed my case. He was asked where he spent the evening, what time he got home, when he had sorted the mail; and before he was "done," he became considerably "mixed." But Ham's time had not come yet, and he was permitted to step down.
Captain Fishley had testified that I had no means of obtaining money honestly, and that I had run away. The captain seemed to be greatly astonished when his brother was called to the witness stand for the defence.