his god's voice. But he obeyed the injunction, and fell into step
at Link's side as usual. Ferris suffered himself to be piloted,
unresisting, through the tattered remnant of the crowd and up the
clubhouse steps.

There his conductor led him through the sacred portals and down a
wide hallway to the door of a committee room. Throwing open the
door, he ushered in his captive and the dog, entering behind them
and reclosing the heavy door.

In the room, round a table, sat several persons--all men except
one. The exception was the girl whose collie had had the bench
next to Chum's. At the table head, looking very magisterial
indeed, sat Colonel Marden. Beside him lounged a larger and older
man in a plaid sport suit.

Link's escort ranged his prisoners at the foot of the table; Chum
standing tight against Ferris's knee, as if to guard him from
possible harm. Link stood glowering in sullen perplexity at the
Colonel. Marden cleared his voice pompously, then spoke.

"Ferris," he began with much impressiveness, "I am a magistrate
of this county --as you perhaps know. You may consider yourself
before the Bar of Justice, and reply to my questions
accordingly."

Awed by this thundered preamble, Ferris made shift to mutter:

"I ain't broke no laws. What d'j' want of me, anyhow?"