it were the less admirable for that.

CHAPTER XIV

In the days that followed Billy's swellings went down and the bruises
passed away with surprising rapidity. The quick healing of the
lacerations attested the healthiness of his blood. Only remained
the black eyes, unduly conspicuous on a face as blond as his. The
discoloration was stubborn, persisting half a month, in which time
happened divers events of importance.

Otto Frank's trial had been expeditious. Found guilty by a jury notable
for the business and professional men on it, the death sentence was
passed upon him and he was removed to San Quentin for execution.

The case of Chester Johnson and the fourteen others had taken longer,
but within the same week, it, too, was finished. Chester Johnson was
sentenced to be hanged. Two got life; three, twenty years. Only two were
acquitted. The remaining seven received terms of from two to ten years.

The effect on Saxon was to throw her into deep depression. Billy was
made gloomy, but his fighting spirit was not subdued.

"Always some men killed in battle," he said. "That's to be expected. But
the way of sentencin' 'em gets me. All found guilty was responsible for
the killin'; or none was responsible. If all was, then they should get
the same sentence. They oughta hang like Chester Johnson, or else he
oughtn't to hang. I'd just like to know how the judge makes up his mind.
It must be like markin' China lottery tickets. He plays hunches. He
looks at a guy an' waits for a spot or a number to come into his head.
How else could he give Johnny Black four years an' Cal Hutchins twenty
years? He played the hunches as they came into his head, an' it might
just as easy ben the other way around an' Cal Hutchins got four years
an' Johnny Black twenty.

"I know both them boys. They hung out with the Tenth an' Kirkham gang
mostly, though sometimes they ran with my gang. We used to go swimmin'
after school down to Sandy Beach on the marsh, an' in the Transit slip
where they said the water was sixty feet deep, only it wasn't. An' once,
on a Thursday, we dug a lot of clams together, an' played hookey Friday
to peddle them. An' we used to go out on the Rock Wall an' catch pogies
an' rock cod. One day--the day of the eclipse--Cal caught a perch half
as big as a door. I never seen such a fish. An' now he's got to wear the
stripes for twenty years. Lucky he wasn't married. If he don't get the
consumption he'll be an old man when