"Answer the question to the best of your knowledge and belief," interposed the justice.
"Perhaps fifteen or twenty dollars," replied the captain, determined to make the sum large enough to cover the case, though I believed that the sum he named was double the actual amount he had given Ham.
"Did it exceed twenty?"
"No, I think not."
The detective then inquired particularly into the management of the mails, as to who opened them and sorted the letters. I was then placed on the stand. I told my story, as I have related it before. I produced the fragment of the envelope I found in the fireplace on the morning after the destruction of the letter. Captain Fishley was overwhelmed, and Mrs. Fishley wrung her hands, declaring it was all "an awful lie."
Captain Fishley immediately called in Squire Pollard, who had done so well for me, to defend his son. The skilful lawyer subjected me to a severe cross-examination, in which I told the simple truth, with all the collateral circumstances about the party at Crofton's, the hour, the weather, the day, and twenty other things which he dragged in to confuse me. Truth is mighty always, in little as well as in great things, and she always stands by her friends.
The stable-keeper appeared with his memorandum-book, and astonished Captain Fishley by swearing that Ham had paid him over thirty dollars, within two months, for the use of his best team. The witness also testified that he had seen Ham pay four dollars for two suppers at the hotel in Tripleton, ten miles distant, and that the defendant had told him not to tell his father that he hired the team.
The evidence was sufficient to commit the prisoner for trial before the United States Court. His father and his uncle became his bail. The detective had also ascertained that he had given his "lady love" jewelry to the amount of at least thirty dollars, which she indignantly sent back as soon as the facts transpired.
People wanted to know why I had not told of Ham before. I had told his father, but he would not believe me. I was afraid that Squire Fishley would blame me for the testimony I had given; but he did not, much as he regretted his brother's misfortune.
Our party left the office together. As we were going out, Mr. Barkspear put his hand on Sim Gwynn's arm, and frightened him nearly out of his scanty wits. The poor fellow flew to the protection of Mr. Goodridge.