"You'll help us, Doctor?"

"I'll do the best I can for you, my friends. It's such a sad old
story in this town that one gets hardened to it till we see it in
some fresh revelation of anguish like yours."

He took the name and address and the old man and woman went out,
softly crying.

A widow came to tell him of an assault on her twelve-year-old
daughter.

"And because the brute is a rich man on an avenue," she sobbed,
"they've turned him loose with a fine. I'm poor and ignorant, and
I'm not a member of your church, but all the people are talking
about you in our neighbourhood, and told me you were a friend of
the weak, and I'm here."

He called his assistant in.

"Anderson, do you know anything of this case? How could such a
thing be?"

"I've looked into it. It's just as she tells you. The man was
arraigned before a police magistrate, who had no power to try such
a case. He was allowed to plead under an assumed name-John Stevens,
of Newark, New Jersey, fined and discharged. I informed the city
editor of the Herald of the case; he detailed a reporter, who
wrote it up. He left out the man's real name. Nothing has come of