"Perhaps not, Mr. Duncan," answered the stranger, in a significant tone, "but I know you."
"Were you the man who gave this tin box to the defendant?"
"Wouldn"t it be well, since this is a court, to swear me as a witness?" asked Roland Reed, quietly.
"Of course, of course," said the squire, rather annoyed to be reminded of his duty by this stranger.
This being done, Mr. Beane questioned the witness in the interest of his client.
"Do you know anything about the tin box found in the possession of Luke Larkin?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Did you commit it to his charge for safe-keeping?"
"I did."
"Were you previously acquainted with Luke?"
"I was not."
"Was it not rather a singular proceeding to commit what is presumably of considerable value to an unknown boy?"
"It would generally be considered so, but I do many strange things.
I had seen the boy by daylight, though he had never seen me, and I was sure I could trust him."
"Why, if you desired a place of safe-keeping for your box, did you not select the bank vaults?"
Roland Reed laughed, and glanced at the presiding justice.
"It might have been stolen," he said.
"Does the box contain doc.u.ments of value?"
"The contents are valuable to me, at any rate."
"Mr. Beane," said Squire Duncan, irritably, "I think you are treating the witness too indulgently. I believe this box to be the one taken from the bank."
"You heard the remark of the justice," said the lawyer. "Is this the box taken from the bank?"
"It is not," answered the witness, contemptuously, "and no one knows this better than Mr. Duncan."
The justice flushed angrily.
"You are impertinent, witness," he said. "It is all very well to claim this box as yours, but I shall require you to prove ownership."
"I am ready to do so," said Roland Reed, quietly. "Is that the box on the table?"
"It is."
"Has it been opened?"
"No; the key has disappeared from the bank."
"The key is in the hands of the owner, where it properly belongs.
With the permission of the court, I will open the box."
"I object," said Squire Duncan, quickly.
"Permit me to say that your refusal is extraordinary," said Mr.
Beane, pointedly. "You ask the witness to prove property, and then decline to allow him to do so."
Squire Duncan, who saw that he had been betrayed into a piece of folly, said sullenly: "I don"t agree with you, Mr. Beane, but I withdraw my objection. The witness may come forward and open the box, if he can."
Roland Reed bowed slightly, advanced to the table, took a bunch of keys from his pocket, and inserting one of the smallest in the lock easily opened the box.
Those who were near enough, including the justice, craned their necks forward to look into the box.
The box contained papers, certificates of stock, apparently, and a couple of bank-books.
"The box missing from the vault contained government bonds, as I understand, Squire Duncan?" said the lawyer.
"Yes," answered the justice, reluctantly.
"Are there any government bonds in the box, Mr. Reed."
"You can see for yourself, sir."
The manner of the witness toward the lawyer was courteous, though in the tone in which he addressed the court there had been a scarcely veiled contempt.
"I submit, then, that my young client has been guilty of no wrong.
He accepted the custody of the box from the rightful owner, and this he had a clear right to do."
"How do you know that the witness is the rightful owner of the box?"
demanded the justice, in a cross tone. "He may have stolen it from some other quarter."
"There is not a shadow of evidence of this," said the lawyer, in a tone of rebuke.
"I am not sure but that he ought to be held."
"You will hold me at your peril, Mr. Duncan," said the witness, in clear, resolute tones. "I have a clear comprehension of my rights, and I do not propose to have them infringed."
Squire Duncan bit his lips. He had only a smattering of law, but he knew that the witness was right, and that he had been betrayed by temper into making a discreditable exhibition of himself.
"I demand that you treat me with proper respect," he said angrily.
"I am ready to do that," answered the witness, in a tone whose meaning more than one understood. It was not an apology calculated to soothe the ruffled pride of the justice.
"I call for the discharge of my young client, Squire Duncan,"