she clutched the unhappy youth by the hair and jerked him out of his
seat, crying accusingly, "Hec Abbott, you disgraceful son of a judge!
You stole my melons, my State Fair melons! You can't say you didn't,
'cause I've found your knife in the garden! I s'pose it walked there,
didn't it? Well, maybe it did, but _you_ walked it! You can just settle
for damages this very minute!"

By this time the Judge had found his tongue, and loosening the angry
fingers from his youngest son's luxuriant topknot, he demanded of Peace,
"What do you mean by such actions? Where are your manners? Why didn't
you knock? Who brought you up?"

"Why didn't _Hec_ knock when he came for my melons last night? Where are
_his_ manners? What did _he_ mean by such actions? _You brung him up!_"

Len Abbott choked over his coffee, Cecile hid her face in her napkin,
and even the anxious mother smiled, but the Judge looked more ruffled
than abashed, and he fairly thundered, "How do you know the knife is
Hector's?"

"Don't you s'pose I have seen it enough to know whose it is? Didn't I
grab it from him the day he pretended to cut off Lola Hunt's ears? I cut
his hand, too, but he deserved it! He's the meanest boy at school next
to Jimmy Jones. Teacher took the knife away one time when he was
skinning a frog, and I saw it then. Anyway, it's got his name on
it,--not just his 'nitials, but his whole name. And there it is!"

She held out the article for the Judge's inspection, and that worthy
gentleman, seeing the look of guilt in his small son's face, pocketed
it, saying whimsically to the wrathful accuser, "That is merely
circumstantial evidence. He might yet be innocent of the charge."

"He might," Peace retorted grimly; "but he ain't! Ask him!"

The Judge turned gravely to the crimson-cheeked lad and asked severely,
"Son, are you guilty or not guilty?"

"Guilty," muttered the miserable culprit.

"Didn't I tell you?" triumphed the girl.

"What would you recommend as his sentence?" asked the Judge.

"Sentence?" repeated Peace, with the uncomfortable feeling that she was
being laughed at.

"Punishment, I mean."

"A good, sound thrashing that ain't all show and no hurt," was the harsh
verdict.

"Very well! I will administer it now. Len, hand me that strap. Hector,
come here!"

Leonard passed the strap to his father, the younger son shuffled across
the porch to receive his sentence, and Peace stood breathlessly by,
watching with frightened eyes.