“Very well,” replied Hal, “I will walk with you and tell you as you go.” Nor did he give “His Honour” a chance to say whether this arrangement was pleasing to him; he set out by his side, with Pete Hanun and the other two men some ten yards in the rear. Hal told the story as he had told it to Mr. Richard Parker; and he received the same response. Such matters were not easy to decide about; they were hardly a Judge’s business. There was a state official on the ground, and it was for him to decide if there was violation of law. Hal repeated his statement that a man who made a complaint to this official had been thrown out of camp. “And I was thrown out also, your Honour.” “What for?” “Nobody told me what for.” “Tut, tut, young man! They don’t throw men out without telling them the reason!” “But they _do_, your Honour! Shortly before that they locked me up in jail, and held me for thirty-six hours without the slightest show of authority.” “You must have been doing something!” “What I had done was to be chosen by a committee of miners to act as their check-weighman.” “Their check-weighman?” “Yes, your Honour. I am informed there’s a law providing that when the men demand a check-weighman, and offer to pay for him, the company must permit him to inspect the weights. Is that correct?” “It is, I believe.” “And there’s a penalty for refusing?” “The law always carries a penalty, young man.” “They tell me that law has been on the statute-books for fifteen or sixteen years, and that the penalty is from twenty-five to five hundred dollars fine. It’s a case about which there can be no dispute, your Honour--the miners notified the superintendent that they desired my services, and when I presented myself at the tipple, I was refused access to the scales; then I was seized and shut up in jail, and finally turned out of the camp. I have made affidavit to these facts, and I think I have the right to ask for warrants for the guilty men.” “Can you produce witnesses to your statements?” “I can, your Honour. One of the committee of miners, John Edstrom, is now in Pedro, having been kept out of his home, which he had rented and paid for. The other, Mike Sikoria, was also thrown out of camp. There are many others at North Valley who know all about it.” There was a pause. Judge Denton for the first time took a good look at the young miner at his side; and then he drew his brows together in solemn thought, and his voice became deep and impressive. “I shall take this matter under advisement. What is your name, and where do you live?” “Joe Smith, your Honour. I’m staying at Edward MacKellar’s, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay there. There are company thugs watching the place all the time.” “That’s wild talk!” said the Judge, impatiently.