"So," said Gadsby, "Councilman Antor's boy and girl, brought up in a family with liquor always handy, now, with ignorant, childish braggadocio, bring Councilman Antor into this mix-up! I'm sorry for Antor; but his pantry is in for an official visit." It wasn't so long from this day that Court got around to this rumpus. To say that that big room was _full_, would put it mildly. Although, according to an old saying, "a cat is only as big as its skin," that room's walls almost burst, as groups of church organizations and law abiding inhabitants almost fought for admission; until standing room was nothing but a suffocating jam. As Gadsby and Doc Wilkins sat watching that sight, Gadsby said:-- "It's an outpouring of rightful wrath by a proud city's population; who, having put out good, hard work in bringing it to its high standing as a community, today, will not stand for anything that will put a blot on its municipal flag, which is, right now, proudly flying on City Hall." As Wilkins was about to say so, a rising murmur was rolling in from out back, for Norman Antor was coming in, in custody of a big patrolman, and with four youths, all looking, not only anxious, but plainly showing humiliation at such an abomination against trusting young girlhood. Scowls and angry rumblings told that high official, way up in back of that mahogany railing, that but a spark would start a riot. So, in a calm, almost uncanny way, this first trial of its kind in Branton Hills got along to a court official calling, loudly:-- "Virginia Adams!!" If you think that you know what a totally still room is, by no kink of your imagination could you possibly know such an awful, frightful _hush_ as struck that crowd dumb, as Virginia, a tall, dark, willowy, stylish girl quickly took that chair, from which Truth, in all its purity, is customarily brought out. But Virginia was not a bit shaky nor anxious, nor doubtful of an ability to go through with this ugly task. Gadsby and Doc Wilkins sat watching Nina; Gadsby with profound sympathy, but Wilkins with an old school-pal's intuition, watching for a blow-up. But Nina didn't blow up, that is, not visibly; but that famous rigid will was boiling, full tilt; boiling up to a point for landing, "tooth and claw" on our pompous Councilman's son, if things didn't turn out satisfactorily. Virginia didn't occupy that stand long; it was only a half-sobbing account of a night at a dancing pavilion; and with a sob or two from a woman or girl in that vast crowd. All Virginia said was:--