," said Westby in a tone of distress, "don't,
please don't, confuse argument with impartial inquiry; nothing is more
distasteful to me than argument. I merely ask for investigation; I court
it in your own interest as well as mine."

Irving grew rigid. His head was throbbing painfully; the continued
snickering all round him and Westby's increasing confidence and fluency
grated on his nerves. He drew out his watch.

"I will give you one minute in which to climb that ladder," he said.

"Mr. Upton, you wish to be a just man," pleaded Westby. "Even though you
have the great weight of authority--and years"--Westby choked a
laugh--"behind you, don't do an unjust and arbitrary thing. Allison
himself wouldn't have you--would you, Allison?"

The victim grinned uncomfortably.

"Mr. Upton," urged Westby, "you wouldn't have me soil these hands?" He
displayed his laudably clean, pink fingers. "Of course, if I go up there
I shall get my hands all dirty--and equally of course if I had been up
there, they would be all dirty now. Surely you believe in the value of
circumstantial evidence; therefore, before we fix the responsibility,
let us search for the dirty pair of hands."

"Time is up," said Irving, closing his watch.

"But what is time when justice trembles in the balance?" argued Westby.
"When the innocent is in danger of being punished for the guilty, when--"

"Westby, please climb that ladder at once."

"So young and so inexorable!" murmured Westby, setting his foot upon the
ladder.

Irving's face was red; the tittering of the audience was making him
angry. He held his eyes on Westby, who made a slow, grunting progress up
three rungs and then stopped.

"Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, sir!" Westby's voice was ingratiating. "Mayn't
Allison sing for us, sir?"

Allison grinned again foolishly and sent a sprawling foot out towards
his persecutor; the others laughed.

"Keep on climbing," said Irving.

Westby resumed his toilsome way, and as he moved he kept murmuring
remarks to Allison, to the others, to Irving himself, half audible,
rapid, in an aggrieved tone.

"Don't see why you want to be conspicuous this way, Allison.--Won't
sing--amuse anybody--ornamental, I suppose--good timekeeper though--almost
hear you tick. Mr. Upton--setting watch by you now--awfully severe kind of
man--"

So mumbling, with the responsive titter still continuing below and
Irving standing there stern and red, Westby disappeared into the loft.
The