“But—but haow kin it be fixed up?” asked Arad, in some doubt.
“You leave that to me,” said the judge pompously. “I’ll show that young reprobate that he has defied the wrong man when he defies me. I’ll give him all the law he wants—more, perhaps, than he bargained for.”
“But s’pose he tries to run away in th’ mornin’, as he threatened?”
“All you’ve got to do, Mr. Tarr,” said the judge, shaking one long finger at the farmer, “is to keep a close watch on that young man. Don’t give him a chance to run away. Lock him into his room tonight and keep him there till we can—er, hem!—straighten this out. I think it will be a very easy matter to place the case before the court in such manner that the necessity for immediate action will be at once admitted.
“Why,” declared the judge, warming up to his subject, “I wonder, sir, how you—an old man” (Uncle Arad winced at that), “and in feeble health—have been able to remain here alone with that young scoundrel all this winter. I wonder that he has not laid violent hands on you.”
“Wal, he has been some abusive, square, but I wouldn’t say nothin’ erbout that,” said Uncle Arad hesitatingly.
“Don’t compound villainy by shielding it,” responded the judge, with righteous indignation. “This matter has already gone too far. When our quiet town is to be aroused and made a scene of riot, such as has been enacted—er—here tonight, sir, it is time something was done. Such young hoodlums as this Brandon Tarr should be shut up where they will do no harm to either their friends or neighbors.
“If I had my way,” added the judge viciously, “I’d shut up every boy in town in the reform school!”
Then he marched out to his carriage, and Uncle Arad, after locking the door, sat down to think the matter over.
If he was successful in his nefarious plan of shutting Brandon up in the reformatory institution of the State, the getting of the diamonds, which Captain Tarr had hidden aboard the Silver Swan, would be all plain sailing.