that the scene was going off so dramatically. "I should indeed be in a
tight box," he went on, "if there were not friends of mine here to help
me out."

They turned to me.

"I am afraid I cannot," I said with what soberness I could.

"What!" says he with a start. "What! you deny me?"

Miss Trevor had her tongue in her cheek. I bowed.

"I am powerless to speak, Mr. Allen," I replied.

During this colloquy my client stood between us, looking from one to the
other. I well knew that his way of thinking would be with my testimony,
and that the gilt name on the edition de luxe had done little towards
convincing him of Mr. Allen's innocence. To his mind there was nothing
horrible or incongruous in the idea that a well-known author should be a
defaulter. It was perfectly possible. He shoved the glass of Scotch
towards the Celebrity, with a smile.

"Take this, old man," he kindly insisted, "and you'll feel better.
What's the use of bucking when you're saddled with a thing like that?"
And he pointed to the paper. "Besides, they haven't caught you yet, by a
damned sight."

The Celebrity waved aside the proffered tumbler.

"This is an infamous charge, and you know it, Crocker," he cried.