He begrudged to Isaacs & Sons the credit of having given Spear
his liberty. His morning had been wasted. He had neglected his own
interests, and in no way assisted those of Spear. He was moving out of
the railed enclosure when Andrews called him by name.

"His honor," he said impressively, "wishes to speak to you."

The judge leaned over his desk and shook Mr. Thorndike by the hand. Then
he made a speech. The speech was about public-spirited citizens who, to
the neglect of their own interests, came to assist the ends of justice,
and fellow-creatures in misfortune. He purposely spoke in a loud voice,
and every one stopped to listen.

"The law, Mr. Thorndike, is not vindictive," he said. "It wishes only
to be just. Nor can it be swayed by wealth or political or social
influences. But when there is good in a man, I, personally, want to know
it, and when gentlemen like yourself, of your standing in this city,
come here to speak a good word for a man, we would stultify the purpose
of justice if we did not listen. I thank you for coming, and I wish more
of our citizens were as unselfish and public-spirited."

It was all quite absurd and most embarrassing, but inwardly Mr.
Thorndike glowed with pleasure. It was a long time since any one had
had the audacity to tell him he had done well. From the friends of Spear
there was a ripple of applause, which no tipstaff took it upon himself
to suppress, and to the accompaniment of this, Mr. Thorndike walked to
the corridor. He was pleased with himself and with his fellow-men. He
shook hands with Isaacs & Sons, and congratulated them upon their public
spirit, and the type-writer firm upon their public spirit. And then he