"That's so," echoed Dobbins; "inasmuch as you showed it to me this
morning."

"Well, if I have," observed the judge, bracing up a little, "I hold it as
evidence of a crime. As an emissary of the law--"

"That's the right word, judge," grinned Dobbins--"'emissary' fits. It don't
go in this instance, though. The evidence is all on Frank's side, as I have
found out. He was in bed when that smash-up took place, so I reckon I won't
go into any plot to ruin the character of an honest boy, this time."

Judge Roseberry gave up the knife reluctantly and felt pretty sheepish in
the act, for his cronies were winking and chuckling over his discomfiture.

"I thank you very much for what you have done for me, Mr. Dobbins," said
Frank as they left the spot.

"That's all right, boy," replied Dobbins heartily; "and if these varmints
make you any more threats, just sue them and I'll stand the costs--that is,
if they aren't too heavy."

Frank felt quite lighthearted as he left old Dobbins and started homeward.
He entered the house whistling, and threw the newspaper he had just got at
the post-office into his aunt's lap. As he went outside and was passing the
open window of the sitting-room, a cry brought him to a halt.

"What is the matter, Aunt Tib?" he inquired quickly.

Miss Brown held an open letter in her hand and looked fluttering and