True to Himself; Or, Roger Strong's Struggle for Place Part 27

In a moment we were in Judge Penfold's office. I was told to take a seat on a bench, with Booth on one side of me and Parsons on the other.

Then Mr. Woodward introduced John Stumpy as a friend from San Antonio, Texas, and the two told their story, corroborated at its end by Farmer Decker, who trembled from head to foot at the idea of addressing as high a dignitary as Judge Penfold.

"What have you to say to this, Strong?" I was asked.

In a plain, straightforward way I told my story from beginning to end, told it in a manner that did not fail to impress nearly every one in the court-room but the judge and my accusers.

Of course Mr. Woodward and John Stumpy stoutly denied all I said, and their denial carried the day.

"Until we can have a real trial I will send you back to jail," said Judge Penfold.

"Why don't you send John Stumpy to jail, too?" I asked. "He is as much accused as I."

"We have only your word for that."

"Then let me send for my sister Kate and d.i.c.k Blair."

Judge Penfold rubbed his chin reflectively.

"I think I'll have to put you under bonds," he said to John Stumpy.

"Why so? The boy's word doesn't amount to anything," put in Mr.

Woodward.

"Only a matter of form, Mr. Woodward. I will make it a thousand dollars. Will you go his bondsman?"

"Of course he will," said John Stumpy, hastily. "Won't you?"

The merchant winced. "I--I guess so," he stammered. "But it's a strange proceeding."

In a few moments, by the aid of two other men, the bond was made out.

"I will make your bail a thousand dollars also," said Judge Penfold, turning to me. "I suppose it's quite useless though," he added sarcastically.

"Not quite so useless as you might think," exclaimed a hearty voice from the rear of the court-room.

I thought I recognized the tones, and turned hastily. There beside my sister Kate stood my uncle, Enos Moss, of whom I have already spoken.

He was a grizzly bearded sea-captain of seventy, with manner and speech suggestive of the brine.

Breaking from Parsons and Booth, I ran to meet him. He shook both my hands and then clapped me on the shoulder.

"Cast up on a lee sh.o.r.e, are you, Roger?" he exclaimed. "And the wind a-blowing a hurricane."

"Yes, I am," I replied, "and I'm mighty glad you've come, Uncle Enos."

"Just dropped anchor in time," he went on. "Judge Penfold, do you remember me?"

"You are Carson Strong's brother-in-law, I believe?" replied the judge.

"You've hit it. Captain Enos Moss, part owner and sailing master of the Hattie Baker, as trim a craft as ever rounded the Horn. Been away for three years, and now on sh.o.r.e to stay."

"You're not going on any more voyages?" I queried.

"No, my hearty. I've made enough to keep me, and I'm getting too old to walk the quarter-deck. Besides, I've heard of your father's troubles from Kate, and I reckon they need sounding."

"Indeed they do."

"Well, now about your difficulty. A thousand-dollar bond, eh. It's pretty stiff, but I guess I can stand it."

"Thank you, sir," was all I could say.

"Don't say a word. Didn't your father put in a good word for me when I was a-courting your aunt that's dead and gone--G.o.d bless her! Indeed, he did! And I'll stand by you, Roger, no matter how hard the gale blows."

"Then you don't think I'm guilty?"

"What! a lad with your bearing a thief? Not much. The people in this village must be asleep--not to know better'n that?"

"Ahem!" coughed Judge Penfold, sternly. He considered my uncle's remarks decidedly impertinent. "Are you able to go his bail?" he asked.

"Reckon I am. I've just deposited ten thousand dollars in the bank here, and I've got twenty and more in New York. How will you have it--in cash?"

"A conditional check, certified, will do," replied Judge Penfold, shortly.

What he meant had to be explained, and then we all went to the banker's office. My uncle's account was found to be as he had stated, and about ten minutes later my bond was signed and I was at liberty to go where I pleased until called upon to appear.

Mr. Aaron Woodward and John Stumpy apparently did not relish the turn affairs had taken. But I paid no attention to them, and the business over, I hurried off with my sister and my newly arrived uncle.

"Did you find the statement?" I asked of Kate, as soon as we were out of hearing of the crowd.

"No, Roger, I looked and looked, but it wasn't anywhere, either at the tool house or on the way to Judge Penfold's."

"Have you heard from Mrs. Canby yet?"

"Yes, she is coming home."

"Does she blame me for what has happened?"

"She doesn't say."

"Never mind, Roger. We'll stick up for you," put in Uncle Enos, kindly.

I was considerably disturbed. What if Mrs. Canby should consider me at fault?

As we drew near to the cottage, I saw a lady standing by the gate, watching our approach. It was the Widow Canby.