f for stabbing a man; and the Southerners
have got the federal commissioner to refuse to give him up to
justice."

"If he stabbed a man, it's cheaper to let them sell him as a slave
than keep him five years in our state prison."

"The poor man seems to prefer it though," said Harley gently. "Have
you seen him?"

"No; what should I see the fellow for?" cried Mr. Bowdoin irritably.

"I understand the State Court House is held like a fort by federal
soldiers, and thugs who call themselves deputy marshals."

Mr. Bowdoin growled something that sounded like, "What if it is?"

The two started to walk down town. Tremont Street was crowded with
running men, and School Street packed close; and as they came in sight
of the Court House they saw that it was surrounded by a line of blue
soldiers.

"Let's go to the Court House," said Harley.

The old gentleman's curiosity made feeble resistance.

"I had a case to see about this morning. Why, there's Judge Wells, the
very man I want to see."

The judge had a body-guard of policemen, and our two friends joined
him as they were slowly forcing a passage through the crowd. When they
came before the old gray stone Court House, they saw two cannon posted
at the corners, and all the windows full of armed troops; and around
the base of the building, barring every door, a heavy iron cable, and
behind this a line of soldiers.

"What the devil is the cable for?" said Mr. Bowdoin.

The crowd, which had opened to let the well-known judge go by, were
now crying, "Let the judge in! Let the judge in!" and then, "Give him
up! Give Simms up! Give him to the sheriff!" and then, "Kidnapped!
Kidnapped!" Just ahead of them our party saw another judge stopped
rudely before the door by a soldier dropping a bayonet across his
breast.

"Can't get in here,--can't get in here."

"I tell you I'm a judge of the Supreme Court of this Commonwealth,"
they heard him say.

"Go around, then, and get under the chain. But the court can't sit
to-day." Mr. Bowdoin bubbled with indignation as he saw the old man
take off his high hat, and, stooping low, bow his white hairs to get
beneath the chain.

"If I do, I'm damned," said Mr. Bowdoin quietly.

"And if I do, I'm--Drop it down, sir, and let me pass: Judge Wells,
of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts."

"And I'm James Bowdoin, of James Bowdoin's Sons, and a good Democrat,
and defendant in a confounded lawsuit before his honor."

"Courts can't sit to