When they got to the village everybody came out to look at them. The man
called out his story as they went along, and the people laughed and
jeered. Heretofore the friends had entered Louisiana villages in
triumph. Now, for the first time, they came dishonored and disgraced.
Poor Horatio looked very downcast. He knew that he was to blame for it
all.

When they got to the court room they found that the Justice of the Peace
was away fishing, so they were lodged in jail for the night. It was only
a little one room affair, with two small iron-barred windows, quite high
from the ground. Boys climbed up and looked through these windows and
threw stones and coal in at Horatio, who huddled in a corner. By and by
the officer came with a plate of supper for Bo. He drove the boys away
and left the friends together. There was no supper for the Bear, so the
little boy divided with him.

"Bo," said Horatio, tearfully, "it was my fault. They'll let you go,
and, and--I hope they'll give you my skin, Bo."

Then they went to sleep.

* * * * *

Early next morning there was a crowd around the jail. The Justice had
returned and the people wanted to see the fun. The friends were hustled
into court by the constable, the crowd stepping back to let Horatio
pass. The justice was rather a young man and had a good-natured face,
which made Bo more hopeful. But when they heard the constable make his
charge against them, both lost heart. They were accused of stealing and
damages and a lot of other things that they could not understand. The
Justice listened and then turned to the prisoners.

"What have you to say for yourselves?" he asked, looking straight at Bo.
At first the little boy tried to speak and could not. The court room was
still--every one waiting to hear what he was about to say. All at once
an idea came to him.

"Please, sir," he trembled, "if you will let my Bear have the violin we
will plead our case together."

"What violin? What does the boy mean?" asked the Justice, turning to the
constable.

"Oh, an ole fiddle they dropped when they took my clothes. I lef' it
down 't the house this morning."

Bo's heart sank. It was their only chance. He was about to give up when
suddenly there came another gleam of hope, though very faint. Wheeling
quickly toward the sorrow stricken Bear he shouted:--

"Perform for them, Horatio! Perform!"

The words acted on Horatio like a shock of electricity. He