this logic, and really believed that
something which an older and more devout person would have regarded as
a special providence had interposed to save him from a life of infamy
and wickedness. It was a blessed experience, and his thoughts were
very serious and earnest.

In the afternoon Squire Walker came down to the poorhouse to subject
Harry to a preliminary examination. Ben Smart had not been taken, and
the pursuers had abandoned the chase.

"Boy," said the squire, when Harry was brought before him; "look at
me."

Harry looked at the overseer with all his might. He had got far enough
to despise the haughty little great man. A taste of freedom had
enlarged his ideas and developed his native independence, so that he
did not quail, as the squire intended he should; on the contrary, his
eyes snapped with the earnestness of his gaze. With an honest and just
man, his unflinching eye would have been good evidence in his favor;
but the pompous overseer wished to awe him, rather than get at the
simple truth.

"You set my barn on fire," continued the squire.

"I did not," replied Harry, firmly.

"Yes, you did. How dare you deny it?"

"I did not."

He had often read, and heard read, that passage of Scripture which
says, "Let your communication be Yea, yea, Nay, nay; for whatsoever is
more than these cometh of evil." Just then he felt the truth of the
inspired axiom. It seemed just as though any amount of violent
protestations would not help him; and though the squire repeated the
charge half a dozen times, he only replied with his firm and simple
denial.

Then Squire Walker called his hired man, upon whose evidence he
depended for the conviction of the little incendiary.

"Is that the boy, John?" asked the squire, pointing to Harry.

"No, sir; it was a bigger boy than that," replied John, without
hesitation.

"Are you sure?"

"O, very sure."

"It must be that this is the boy," persisted the squire, evidently
much disappointed by the testimony of the man.

"I am certain it was a bigger boy than this."

"I feel pretty clear about it, Mr. Nason," added the squire. "You
see, this boy was mad, yesterday, because I wanted to send him to
Jacob Wire's. My barn is burned, and it stands to reason he burned
it."

"But I saw the boy round the barn night afore last," interposed John,
who was certainly better qualified to be a justice of the peace than
his employer.

"I know that; but the barn wasn't burned till l