flashed into his
mind. He grasped it in an instant.

"Look here," he demanded. "I am not dealing with Mr. Benjamin Stubbles
now, but with you six men who, according to your own confession, made
the attack. If necessary, I can take up his case later. You are the
men I have been called upon to try, and not Mr. Stubbles. I,
therefore, declare you guilty of waylaying one, John Handyman by name,
with the intention of afflicting bodily injury, and also of breaking
into Professor Strong's house. These are very serious offences, but as
this is the first time you have been before me I shall make the penalty
very light, and impose the fine of only ten dollars upon each of you.
That is my decision, and I hope you are satisfied."

Douglas was upon his feet in an instant.

"You are perverting justice," he cried. "You know who is the guilty
man and you are letting him go free. I demand that you give a
different judgment, or at least be man enough to acknowledge that you
are afraid to give any decision against Ben Stubbles."

"Hear, hear," came from all parts of the room, and in the excitement
that followed, Squire Hawkins declared the trial ended and left the
building with Ben as quickly as possible.

Douglas was thoroughly disgusted at the farce he had just witnessed.
He was somewhat disheartened as well. What hope had he of
accomplishing anything when the man appointed to administer British
justice exhibited such a spirit of partiality and cringing cowardice?
The men around him were greatly excited, though he felt that nothing
could be expected from them. They might storm and rage at the
injustice, but they would bow their necks as in the past to the
Stubbles' yoke and endure every indignity.

Leaving the hall and the babel of voices, he hurried up the road. The
unpolluted air was refreshing and he became calmer. Presently an idea
flashed into his mind, which brought a flush to his cheeks and caused
his eyes to kindle with a new hope. "Strange I didn't think of it
before," he mused. "But perhaps it is not too late yet. I shall try
it, anyway."

CHAPTER XXVI

ON THE ROCKS

Charles Garton was seated in his cosy study smoking his after-dinner
cigar. It was unusual for him to be alone at this hour of the evening,
as his wife and children were generally with him. But he had been late
coming from the office and by the time he had finished his dinner the
children were put to bed, as this was the maid's e