with animation, her color rose and her eyes grew bright,
and Fred looked and listened admiringly. He was skeptical about Jim,
but he was struck with the accuracy of the portrait of Edwards.

"I guess that's about so," he said.

"And when I think of that poor boy shut up in that awful jail,
locked into a cell, when he ought to be out-of-doors playing ball
and having a good time, it makes my blood boil!" continued Miss
Ware. "Now, Fred," she concluded, with pretty decision, "you must
stop it."

Fred laughed.

"Isn't that a pretty large order?" he asked. "Squire Tucker put him
there. I guess it's legal."

"You can do _something_," said his betrothed. "Go to see Jimmie. See
if you can't find out what's the matter. Jimmie likes you, perhaps
he'll tell."

"I didn't know Jim had any particular partiality for me," said Fred,
but he felt kindlier toward the boy in spite of himself.

"If you can only find out what really happened, I know we can get
him out," averred Miss Ware.

"Why don't you go yourself?" said Farnsworth.

"I can't,--not till five o'clock. Of course I'm going then!"

"That's about four hours off," said Farnsworth.

"But I want something done _now_!" exclaimed Nancy.

"Oh!" said Fred, humorously.

"Will you go?"

"Of course. I'll start at once." Fred dropped his banter. "I'll tell
you what, Nancy. I may not be able to do much right off, but I'll
promise you that he has a fair chance before the grand jury."

Farnsworth started at once for the jail. It was a poor place for a
boy, he reflected, as he rang the jailer's private bell. Calkins
himself was not there, and his wife came to the door. She knew
Farnsworth; and when he asked if he might see Jim she laughed a
little, and told him to "step right in."

"Hotel Calkins" was a brick building which looked pleasantly like a
private dwelling, as, in fact, a good half of it was. In this front
half dwelt the jailer; in the rear half, separated from the living
quarters by a thick wall and heavy doors, was the jail proper. There
Farnsworth expected to be led.

But not at all! Mrs. Calkins ushered him into her own kitchen, where
a wash-tub showed what she was doing, where the afternoon sun and
sweet September air poured in at the open windows, and where a
canary in its cage was singing cheerily.

Here Farnsworth was much surprised to see Jim, curled up in Mrs.
Calkins's own rocking-chair, eating a large red-cheeked apple which
he was dividing with