"Silence in the courtroom," said the judge, sternly. "She didn't say one word to me, except 'Good evening,'" shouted Jarvis. "Is that the man?" the judge asked the officer. "Yes. He's made a lot of trouble, too, trying to make me arrest him." "If you have any evidence to give in this case, come to the front and be sworn in." Jarvis jumped the railing and stood before him. The oath was administered. "Now, tell me, briefly, what the girl said to you." "She said, 'Hello, kid!'" A titter went over the courtroom. The clerk rapped for order. "Then what happened?" "This officer arrested her. I told him what had passed between us, and insisted on being arrested, too. We said the same thing, the girl and I." "The girl has been here before. She has a record." "Where are the men she made the record with?" demanded Jarvis. "We do not deal with that feature of it," replied the judge, turning to the officer. "And why not?" demanded Jarvis. "It takes a solicitor and the solicited to make a crime. What kind of laws are these which hound women into the trade and hound them for following it?" "It is neither the time nor the place to discuss that. The case is dismissed. This court has no time to waste, Flynn, in cases where there's no evidence," he added, sternly, to the detective. The girl nodded to Jarvis and beckoned him, but instead of following her he went back to his seat. He would follow this ghastly puppet show to its end. At a word from the judge a tall, handsome, gray-haired woman approached the bench. She wore no hat, and Jarvis marked her broad brow and pleasant smile and the wise, philosophic eyes. Her face looked cheerful and normal in this place of abnormalities. "Who is that woman?" Jarvis asked his neighbour. "Probation officer," came the answer. Jarvis watched her with passionate interest. He noted her low-voiced answers to the judge's questions about the girl in hand. The curiosity seekers in the audience could not hear, no matter how they craned their necks. He watched her calm smile as she turned to take the girl off into her own office. He made up his mind to talk with her before the night was over. Case followed case as the night wore on. It seemed to Jarvis that this bedraggled line had neither beginning nor end. He saw it winding through this place night after night, year after year, the old-timers and the new recruits. Uptown reputable citizens slept peacefully in their beds; this was no concern of theirs. He was no better than the rest, with his precious preaching about the brotherhood of man. What the body politic needed was a surgeon to cut away this abscess, eating its youth and strength.