t now, it ain't no
dream--not by a million miles! I wish it was," he added, with a serious
twist of the head.

"Go on," said the judge.

"I've hurried here, Judge Maxwell, to do what I can in the name of
justice and humanity," Morgan said. "That boy, Joe Newbolt, on trial
here before you for the murder of old man Chase, is innocent. That boy
is telling the truth, Judge, and I'll stake my neck on that. I've got a
story to tell you that will clear up all he's holding back, and I'll
tell it, if I swing for it!"

Morgan was greatly agitated. He stopped there, looking earnestly into
the judge's face.

"Why have you waited so long?" asked the judge, sternly.

Morgan leaned over, clutching at the judge's arm.

"Am I too late--is it over--have they convicted him?" he asked.

"Yes, it's over," nodded the judge, studying Morgan's face narrowly.

"Merciful heavens!" said Morgan, springing to his feet, looking around
for his coat and hat. "We must stop this thing before it's too late,
Judge--I tell you we must stop it! Isn't there some way--have they
convicted Joe?"

"Sit down, Morgan, and calm yourself. Hold your feet out to the blaze
and dry them," the judge admonished, kindly.

"What's happened?" asked Morgan, wildly, not heeding the command.

"You shall hear it all in time," promised the judge. "Sit down here and
tell me what you've been doing all these weeks. Where have you been?"

"Judge, I've been over in Saint Joe selling books," said Morgan, "and
I'll tell you the truth, Judge, I never intended to come back here." He
turned and faced the judge, leaning forward earnestly, his face white.
He lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. "But I had to come back--I was
sent back by--by a voice!"

"Just so," nodded Judge Maxwell.

"You may think it's a pipe-dream, Judge, but it ain't. It's the solemn
truth, if I ever told it in my life. I intended to let Joe Newbolt go on
and carry what he'd picked up, and then when he was out of the way in
the pen, or worse, maybe, I intended to hunt Ollie up and marry her. I
didn't want that business that Joe Newbolt's been keeping back let out
on her, don't you see, Judge? It concerns her and me, Judge; it ain't
the kind of a story a man's folks would want told around about his wife,
you understand?"

The judge nodded.

"All right," said Morgan, wiping his forehead, which was beaded with
sweat, "Last night along about ten o'clock I was in my room reading the
account in the pape