his account out of the bank."

"Humph!" exclaimed Mrs. Peaslee. "Well," she added, "you go to the
hearin'. Justice is suthin', I guess."

But she said no more, and with her husband and the children awaited
events--a silent group in the silent street before the silent house.
The children's eyes grew bigger and bigger with excitement. Was not
Jimmy Edwards going to be arrested for mur-r-rder? the horrid
whisper ran. One small boy, beginning to whimper, asked if Jimmy was
"going to be hung."

The occasion was solemn even to the older eyes of Mr. Peaslee.
"S'posin' it was me," he said to himself.

Presently Mr. Edwards, Jim, and the constable emerged from the
house. Jim looked white and frightened, but was bravely trying to
bear himself like a man. Mr. Edwards, his long, shaven upper lip
stiff as a board, looked stern and uncompromising. Barton was as big
and good-humored as ever.

He turned upon the little boys and girls, and, waving his arm,
cried, "Scat!" They fell back--about ten feet. Thus the procession
formed: Barton and Jim, then Mr. Edwards, and--at a barely
respectful distance--the crowd of youngsters.

Mr. Peaslee, much moved, but trying hard not to show it, thrust his
rake under the veranda with a great show of care, and joined Mr.
Edwards--much to that gentleman's surprise. Solomon's heart was
throbbing with a great resolution.

"I always aim to be neighborly," said he, nervously lowering his
voice, for he was conscious of his wife, still standing on the
veranda. "Thought I'd just step along, too. I cal'late mebbe you'd
like comp'ny on his bail bond," and he jerked his thumb toward Jim.

It was out; he was committed, and Solomon heaved a great sigh, he
knew not whether of relief or dismay. There was not indeed any risk
in signing with Edwards, who was "good" for any bail that the
justice was likely to require; but what would Mrs. Peaslee say if
she knew! He glanced apprehensively toward the house.

His wife had gone in; but, evil omen! there, sitting on a
fence-post, was the Calico Cat. She was placidly washing her face;
and as her paw twinkled past the big black spot round her right eye,
she appeared, at that distance, to be greeting him with a derisive
wink.

Mr. Edwards, although his mouth shut tighter than ever at the
mention of bail, was surprised and touched. "Thank you," he said.
"It's kind of you to think of it."

In the village, Sam ushered them into the musty law office of Squire
Tuck