“The clothes have been identified by the Chatfords,” said the squire. “They will also, if necessary, be sworn to by them, when the case comes up for trial. So any further evidence with regard to them might be dispensed with, since he has confessed his crime; though I told the deacon he might be wanted here as a witness, and I’m expectin’ him every minute. My nephew will corroborate my testimony.”
“Very well, as a mere formality; though your testimony is sufficient.”
Byron Dinks having given his evidence, in the presence of an ever-increasing crowd of spectators, the judge turned to Jack, winking extraordinarily hard at him, and said, “The complaint against you, I suppose you are aware, is of a very grave character. Is there any statement you wish to make?”
Winked at by the weak-eyed judge, stared at by the group of idle spectators, and frowned upon by the relentless Peternot, Jack, standing at Sellick’s right hand beside the desk, clutched the table with his nervous fingers, caught his breath quickly, and answered in a frank, firm voice, “All I have to say is, that the money I took belongs to me more than it does to him; and I believed I had a right to it. I found it in an old rotten log; and he had robbed me of it before I took it from him. I didn’t think it was housebreaking when I got into his window; the window was open; it was broken accidentally when I was getting the money out.”
“I’ll say here,” interposed Peternot, “what I’ve said to the boy before, that if he will give up his booty and name his accomplices,—though I know perty well who they be,—I’ll accept his apology, and withdraw my complaint.”
“That’s a fair proposition,” said Judge Garty, “and both as a friend and a magistrate I advise you to take up with it. You are young; there appear to be really some extenuating circumstances in the case, and it seems hard that you should be punished.”
“It is hard!” said Jack, his voice heaving, but not breaking. “I never had a chance for myself till just a few weeks ago; and I meant to make the most of it,—I meant to do right, and be honest and true; and now this is what it comes to! But I can’t give up what he calls my booty.” His eyes flashed out proudly and defiantly: there was something in his look that said, “I can be wronged, I can be trampled on, but I won’t give in to the tyrant!” “If the money is what he wants of me, he won’t get it. I’ll go to jail, if I must.”