Hampstead attributed this to mere unfriendliness, never suspecting that in one hour between editions an editor could have subtly sensed a popular readiness to accept the worst view of his case, and deliberately pandered to it as a mere matter of commercial newsmongering; nor that this unfavorable account was to be accepted as the first straw blown up in a hurricane of adverse criticism which would rise and sweep over the city and blow its very hardest in the aisles of All People’s Church itself. The effect of this narrative upon Hampstead’s mind was unspeakably oppressive, and he looked up from its perusal with relief and pleasure at finding a well-known physician in the seat beside him. The doctor was prominent in the work of one of the Encina churches, and had been particularly sympathetic with Hampstead in campaigns against petty crime. The minister had a right, therefore, to feel that this man was one of his friends; yet the physician greeted him with a self-conscious air and immediately relapsed into silence. Hampstead endured this until the humor of the situation forced itself upon him. "Oh, cheer up," he laughed, poking the physician with an elbow. "You probably know worse people than diamond thieves." The doctor also laughed and disclaimed any sense of gloom, but his was an embarrassed merriment, and he refrained from meeting the eye of the minister. However, after another interval of silence, as if feeling that he should at any rate say something, he reached over and laid a patronizing hand upon the minister’s knee. "Of course, Doctor Hampstead," he suggested, "every one is confident you will be able to prove your innocence." The minister made an ejaculation that was short and sharp. The doctor looked at him with surprise, as if questioning whether he heard aright. "Under the law, I thought a man was presumed to be innocent, and that his accusers had to prove his guilt," went on Hampstead. The doctor flushed slightly, and while his eyes roved through the car window, declared: "Well, I am afraid, Doctor Hampstead, you will find that a public man against whom a charge like this is hurled is presumed to be guilty until he proves himself innocent." "That is your attitude?" inquired Hampstead coldly. "Oh, by no means," protested the physician. "It is his attitude all the same," commented the minister to himself, somewhat bitterly, as he descended from the train at the station nearest his home. "How does he take it?" asked one sage citizen, crowding into the vacant seat beside the physician, while a second leaned over from behind to hear the answer. "Very much worried," replied the doctor, as gravely and as oracularly as he would have pronounced upon another man’s patient. "Very much worried!" "Would you believe," the physician inquired presently of the first citizen, with a hesitating and extremely confidential air, "would you believe that Doctor Hampstead would say ’hell’—outside of a sermon, I mean?"