d as the one great criminal. Unconsciously his glance
fixed itself on the hand he had raised to shield his eyes from the
light of the blazing logs, and it occurred to him that that hand might
yet be called on to sign away a man's life.

The ringing of his door-bell caused him to start expectantly, and a
moment later a maid entered to say that a man and a woman wished to see
him.

"Show them in!" said the judge.

And Mr. Shrimplin with all that modesty of demeanor which one of his
sensitive nature might be expected to feel in the presence of greatness,
promptly insinuated himself into the room.

The little lamplighter was dressed in those respectable garments which
in the Shrimplin household were adequately described as his "other
suit," and as if to remove any doubt from the mind of the beholder that
he had failed to prepare himself for the occasion, he wore a clean paper
collar, but no tie, this latter being an adornment Mr. Shrimplin had not
attempted in years. Close on Shrimplin's heels came a jaded unkempt
woman in a black dress, worn and mended. On seeing her the judge's cold
scrutiny somewhat relaxed.

"So it's you, Nellie?" he said, and motioned her to a chair opposite his
own.

Not knowing exactly what was expected of him, Mr. Shrimplin remained
standing in the middle of the room, hat in hand.

"Be seated, Shrimplin," said the judge, sensing something of the
lamplighter's embarrassment in his presence and rather liking him for
it.

"Thank you, Judge," replied Shrimplin, selecting a straight-backed chair
in a shadowy corner of the room, on the very edge of which he humbly
established himself.

"Better draw nearer the fire, Shrimplin!" advised the judge.

"Thank you, Judge, I ain't cold," rejoined Mr. Shrimplin in his best
manner.

The judge turned to the woman. She had once been a servant in his
household, but had quitted his employ to marry Joe Montgomery, and to
become by that same act Mr. Shrimplin's sister-in-law. The judge knew
that her domestic life had been filled with every known variety of
trouble, since from time to time she had appealed to him for help or
advice, and on more than one occasion at her urgent request he had
interviewed the bibulous Joe.

"I hope you are not in trouble, Nellie," he said, not unkindly.

"Yes I am, Judge!" cried his visitor in a voice worn thin by weariness.

"It's that disgustin' Joe!" interjected Mr. Shrimplin from his corner,
advancing his hooked nose f