ade the victim of a truly diabolical
hoax. He was sitting reading the newspaper in a public-house, the
Three Hens--he had not even been drinking, mind, simply reading the
newspaper--when a perfect stranger, whom he had never seen before nor
since, but whom he should know anywhere, came in, with an overcoat
(the one produced in court) over his arm. The stranger, with a craft
for which an innocent being like Mr. Hall was no match, began by
offering refreshments. These consumed, he asked Mr. Hall to do him the
favour of pawning his overcoat for him. Mr. Hall naturally put the
question, Why didn't he pawn it himself? The stranger replied that he
was unfamiliar with pawnshops, that he doubted his ability to make a
good bargain, and that he was willing to pay his new acquaintance a
commission on the proceeds. This last offer Mr. Hall had magnanimously
refused, but out of mere good-nature he went forth to do the
stranger's bidding. The pawnbroker, however, with a distrust in human
nature which stamped him as having an evil mind, called in a passing
policeman, and gave this victim of his own kindly disposition into
custody. The sequel was inevitable. The constable was led by the
unsuspicious Hall to the bar of the Three Hens, but the mysterious
stranger had gone and left no trace. Poor, humble, with nothing
but his good character to rely on, Mr. Hall now cast himself with
confidence on the discernment of the gentlemen before him.

The gentlemen had made up their minds already. But they could not give
their verdict till the judge had had his turn. Mr. Justice Buller set
to and occupied exactly fourteen minutes in telling the jury that
there was not much evidence of stealing, but there was strong evidence
of the receiving. The jury then occupied exactly fourteen seconds in
deciding that the prisoner was guilty of stealing.

It then transpired that this was not the first time Mr. Hall had been
the victim of appearances. His trusting nature had led him on six
previous occasions to incur the censure of the law. He was, therefore,
now bidden to take up his abode where no such temptations could assail
him for the next five years.

By this time several other bills had come in from the grand jury, and
it had become apparent that the all-absorbing murder would not be
tried that day. The audience gradually drifted off, and the remainder
of the day's performance took place before a half-empty house.

CHAPTER V.

THE CASE FOR TH