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He felt that he had not only lost his money, but that he had come dangerously near to losing what character he had, also. He knew that it was all due to his own fault, and he was humiliated and angry with himself, and bitter toward every one who had sided with the defendant. But if Sharpman's disappointment was great, that of his client was tenfold greater.
"I don't know. I guess I'll go down to Mr. Sharpman's office after a while, an' see if he's left any word for me." Mrs. Maloney appeared at her door. "The top o' the mornin' to yez!" she cried, cheerily. "It's a fine mornin' this!" Both Bachelor Billy and Ralph responded to the woman's hearty greeting.
But Sharpman's great fear was that if Rhyming Joe should be brought back, the story of the bribery could no longer be hushed; and he therefore opposed the application for a continuance with all his energy.
"Ralph, the slate-picker! Do you mean that boy?" It was Sharpman's turn to be surprised. "Do you know him?" he asked, quickly. "I do," she replied. "My husband first told me of him; I have seen him frequently; I have talked with him so lately as yesterday." "Ah, indeed! I am very glad you know the boy. We can talk more intelligently concerning him."
Ten days after the evening interview at Sharpman's office, Ralph received a message from the lawyer instructing him to be at the railroad station on the following morning, prepared to go to Wilkesbarre. So Bachelor Billy went alone that day to the breaker, and Ralph stayed behind to make ready for his journey.
And yet he would have you think that one is but an honest fool, and that the other is as innocent as a babe in arms." Up among the people some one hissed, then some one else joined in, and, before the judge and officers could restore order in the room, the indignant crowd had greeted Sharpman's words with a perfect torrent of groans and hisses.
He had on a clean new suit of black broadcloth, his linen was white and well arranged, and he had been freshly shaven. Probably he had not presented so attractive an appearance before in many years. It was all due to Sharpman's money and wit. He knew how much it is worth to have a client look well in the eyes of a jury, and he had acted according to his knowledge.
Craft raised himself on his cane to lean toward Sharpman. "He lies!" whispered the old man, hoarsely; "the boy lies!" Sharpman paid no attention to him. "When did you first learn that you are Mr. Craft's grandson?" continued the counsel for the defence. "Last night," responded Ralph. "Where?" "At Mr. Sharpman's office." The blood rushed suddenly into Sharpman's face.
He thought it would be wise for him to go first to Sharpman's office and learn what he could there. The lawyer had not yet returned from lunch, but the clerk said he would positively be in at half-past one, so Billy took the proffered chair, and waited. Sharpman came promptly at the time, greeted his visitor cordially, and took him into his private office.
At last! at last he was to know. Some one had found him out. He was no longer "nobody's child." He struggled into his Sunday coat, pulled his cap on his head, and, in less than ten minutes he was out on the road with the messenger, hurrying through the frosty air and the bright moonlight, toward Sharpman's office.
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