SEVERAL minutes passed before the crowd settled down. There was not room for all to sit, and many stood up in the back part of the room.
The two constables, placing Dan between them, took seats near the Squire’s desk. Judge Perkfell put on his glasses and selected a book from the pile in front of him. He took the first one he came to, and opened it at random. This was only done to impress the onlookers.
“Ahem! Let the prisoner stand up,” called the justice.
Dan arose.
“Ahem! That will do, be seated.”
Dan did not see what that amounted to. Neither did any one else but the Squire. To him it showed the power he had to make prisoners do whatever he commanded.
“Where is the complainant in this case?” went on the justice.
“Is the complainant not present? Unless he answers at once I shall commit him for contempt of court.”
“I don’t think there is any com—complainant, Judge,” spoke Mr. Wolff, wondering what the word meant.
“What? No complainant? Why there must be, or we can not hold court.”
“Can’t I get you one, your Honor?” asked Mr. Walker, determined to make up for past offenses. “If you tell me where it is I’ll bring it.”
“The complainant is the person who makes the complaint—who brings the charge—who accuses the prisoner,” explained the justice, frowning, as he saw some persons smiling.
“Oh, I’m makin’ th’ charge,” replied Constable Wolff.
“So am I!” exclaimed his fellow officer quickly, for he was not going to be left out of the affair.
“You are both complainants? Why, I understood it was Dr. Maxwell’s house that was burglarized.”
“So it was,” said Mr. Walker quickly.
“Then Dr. Maxwell is the complainant. Is he present?”
“He has got to see a sick lady,” explained Silas Martin, the doctor’s hired man, as he stood up in the back of the room, blushing very much at the notice he attracted.
“Ah, in that case we will proceed without him, and we can have his evidence later. A doctor is privileged to stay away from court, to attend the sick, as laid down in the Atlantic Reporter, 638, Barker versus Sanderson, but for no other cause. Otherwise I should have had to commit Dr. Maxwell for contempt of court.”
There was a sort of gasp at this, as the Squire intended there should be, for, as he thought, it showed his power.
“Meanwhile we will proceed with the case. I will hear the evidence of the two representatives of the law.”
The constables straightened up in their chairs at thus hearing themselves mentioned.
At that moment Mr. Harrison, the blacksmith, went over and took a seat beside Dan.
“Here!” exclaimed the Judge. “What are you doing? You have no right there.”
“I am here to look after the interest of the prisoner, Dan Hardy,” said Mr. Harrison firmly.
“But you’re not a lawyer. You’re only a blacksmith.”
“I know it, Squire Perkfell, but one does not need to be a lawyer to represent a person in the court of a justice of the peace. Your law books will tell you that.”
Perhaps they would, but the Squire did not know where to look for the information. He was half inclined to dispute the word of the blacksmith, but he thought better of it.
Perhaps Mr. Harrison was right, and he was entitled to represent Dan. The Squire knew enough of law to realize that a prisoner ought to be represented by some one. He thought it ought to be a lawyer, but if the blacksmith insisted, perhaps it would not be wise to disagree with him.
“Very well,” announced the Justice, after a moment’s thought, “I will allow you to represent the prisoner,—temporarily, however, only temporarily. I may change my decision later, as the case develops.”
Mr. Harrison smiled.
“I now demand the right to have a few minutes private conversation with my—my client,” said the blacksmith.
Squire Perkfell did not know what to do. This was something new in his practice.
“Don’t do it!” exclaimed Constable Wolff. “Don’t allow it, your Honor. It’s a plot t’ let him escape!”
“Silence!” cried the Squire. “I am in charge of this court!”
He dimly remembered once being at a trial where a lawyer made such a demand, and the judge granted it. Squire Perkfell prided himself on knowing law, and he wanted to do what was right, so he said:
“Very well, your request is granted. But you must talk to the prisoner in this room. You may withdraw to a corner.”
“That will do,” assented Mr. Harrison, and he led Dan to a part of the room where he could converse with him quietly. The two constables watched him narrowly. Dan told his friend all the events of the night ride, including the finding of the spoon, and the actions of the mysterious men. Then he led the boy back to his seat, and spoke to the Squire.
“We are ready to proceed,” he said.
“Who is the first witness?” asked the justice, who, in the meanwhile, had been asking Constable Wolff more about the case.
“Si Martin,” answered Jacob Wolff, who had assumed the role of prosecutor. “He discovered the robbery.”
“Silas Martin, step forward,” called the Squire, and the doctor’s hired man, blushing like a girl, shambled to the desk.
“Now tell the Court what you know.”
“I don’t know nothin’ about it. I didn’t see Dan steal anythin’. I don’t believe he done it. Neither does Dr. Maxwell, an’ he told me t’ say so. He’s comin’ here as soon as he can.”
“The court can not await the convenience of any one,” said the justice with dignity. “Nor does it want you to express your opinion as to the guilt or innocence of a prisoner. Just tell what you know of the robbery.”
Thereupon Silas related what we already know, of how he discovered that the house had been entered, and the silver and other things taken. Next he told of his visit to the constables, and what Mr. Lee had said regarding Dan’s midnight ride.
The storekeeper was called and gave his evidence. It began to look black for Dan, especially when the constables added their story of him being up the tree, and of the finding of the spoon in his pocket.
“That seems to be the case for the prosecution,” remarked the Squire. “Is the defense ready to proceed?” And he looked at Mr. Harrison.
“We are,” replied the blacksmith. “I want to ask some questions of the witnesses. I did not interrupt them while they were testifying, as I wanted to hear the whole story. First I would like to call Mr. Lee back to the stand.”
“I ain’t got no time to bother with this case any more,” replied the storekeeper. “I told all I know. I’ve got to go back and wait on some customers.”
“Take the stand!” exclaimed the justice. “You are a material witness in this case, and, until you are excused by the court, you must remain. I will commit you for contempt if you go away.”
Mr. Lee scowled. He was angry at the justice, and he privately resolved to raise his rent as soon as the case was over, for he owned the office where the Squire held court.