the back of an envelope. He had forgotten the time or had chosen to
disregard it. So great was his interest that he had forgotten the
particular derelict he had come to serve, until Spear stood almost at
his elbow.

Thorndike turned eagerly to the judge, and saw that he was listening to
a rotund, gray little man with beady, bird-like eyes who, as he talked,
bowed and gesticulated. Behind him stood a younger man, a more modern
edition of the other. He also bowed and, behind gold eye-glasses, smiled
ingratiatingly.

The judge nodded, and leaning forward, for a few moments fixed his eyes
upon the prisoner.

"You are a very fortunate young man," he said. He laid his hand upon a
pile of letters. "When you were your own worst enemy, your friends came
to help you. These letters speak for you; your employers, whom you
robbed, have pleaded with me in your favor. It is urged, in your behalf,
that at the time you committed the crime of which you are found guilty,
you were intoxicated. In the eyes of the law, that is no excuse. Some
men can drink and keep their senses. It appears you can not. When you
drink you are a menace to yourself--and, as is shown by this crime, to
the community. Therefore, you must not drink. In view of the good
character to which your friends have testified, and on the condition
that you do not touch liquor, I will not sentence you to jail, but will
place you in charge of the probation officer."

The judge leaned back in his chair and beckoned to Mr. Andrews. It was
finished. Spear was free, and from different parts of the court-room
people were moving toward the door. Their numbers showed that the