The next day after his return from college David started his legal labors under the watchful eye of the Judge. He made a leap-frog progress in acquiring an accurate knowledge of legal lore. He worked and waited patiently for the Judge's recognition of his readiness to try his first case, and at last the eventful time came. "No; there isn't the slightest prospect of his winning it," the Judge told his wife that night. "The prosecution has strong evidence, and we have nothing--barely a witness of any account." "Then the poor man will be convicted and David will gain no glory," lamented M'ri. "It means so much to a young lawyer to win his first case." The Judge smiled. "Neither of them needs any sympathy. Miggs ought to have been sent over the road long ago. David's got to have experience before he gains glory." "How did you come to take such a case?" asked M'ri, for the Judge was quite exclusive in his acceptance of clients. "It was David's doings," said the Judge, with a frown that had a smile lurking behind it. "Why did he wish you to take the case?" persisted M'ri. "As near as I can make out," replied the Judge, with a slight softening of his grim features, "it was because Miggs' wife takes in washing when Miggs is celebrating." M'ri walked quickly to the window, murmuring some unintelligible sound of endearment. On the day of the summing-up at the trial the court room was crowded. There were the habitual court hangers on, David's country friends _en masse_, a large filling in at the back of the representatives of the highways and byways, associates of the popular wrongdoer, and the legal lore of the town, with the good-humored patronage usually bestowed by the profession on the newcomer to their ranks. As the Judge had said, his client was conceded to be slated for conviction. If he had made the argument himself he would have made it in his usual cool, well-poised manner. But David, although he knew Miggs to be a veteran of the toughs, felt sure of his innocence in this case, and he was determined to battle for him, not for the sake of justice alone, but for the sake of the tired-looking washerwoman he had seen bending over the tubs. This was an occupation she had to resort to only in her husband's times of indulgence, for he was a wage earner in his days of soberness. When David arose to speak it seemed to the people assembled that the coil of evidence, as reviewed by the prosecutor in his argument, was drawn too closely for any power to extricate the victim. At the first words of the young lawyer, uttered in a voice of winning mellowness, the public forgot the facts in the case. Swayed by the charm of David's personality, a current of new-born sympathy for the prisoner ran through the court room.