“That's all right,” said the judge. And then he added gravely, “Very well, Samuel, we'll give you another chance for your father's sake. But don't let me see you here again.” “No, your honor,” said Samuel. Then he added quickly. “But what can I do?” “Get out of Lockmanville,” said the other. “But how? When I've no money. If your honor could only help me to some work.” “No,” said the judge. “I'm sorry, but I've found jobs for three men this week, and I don't know any more.” “But then--” began Samuel. “I'll give you a dollar out of my own pocket,” the other added. “Your honor,” cried Samuel startled, “I don't want to take money!” “You can send it back to me when you get a job,” said the judge, holding out a bill. “Take it. Prisoner discharged. Next case.” Samuel took the money and was turning away, when a man who had been sitting in a chair near the magistrate suddenly leaned forward. “Judge,” he said, “if I may interrupt--” “Why, surely, professor,” said the other pleasantly. “I may possibly be able to find something for the boy to do.” “Ah, that will be fine!” “He seems to be a capable young fellow and might be worth helping.” “The very thing, professor. Samuel, this is Professor Stewart, of Lockman College.” Samuel was very glad to meet the professor. He was a trim little gentleman, with a carefully cut black beard and gold-rimmed eyeglasses. “Here is my card,” he said; “and if you'll come to see me to-morrow morning at my house, we'll see what we can do.” “Thank you very much,” said the boy, and put the card in his pocket. Then, realizing suddenly that the policeman had let go of his arm, and that he was free, he turned and made his way through the gate. “A diverting episode,” said the professor. “Yes,” said the judge, with a smile. “We have them now and then, you see.” Samuel went out with a glow in his heart. At last he had got a start. He had got underneath the world's tough hide and found kindness and humanity after all. It had been a harrowing experience, but it would not happen again. He had now one definite purpose in mind. He walked straight out of town and down the river road until he came to a sufficiently solitary place. Then he took off his clothes and sat down on the bank and performed a most elaborate toilet. For half an hour at least he scrubbed his head with sand and water, and combed his hair out with his fingers. And then he went over his clothing inch by inch. At least he would be through with one hideous reminder of his imprisonment. After which he dressed again and went back to town and found the saloon where he had eaten. “Hello!” said his friend Finnegan, the bar-keeper. “Back again!” “I came to explain about this morning,” said Samuel. “I couldn't come because they put me in jail.” “Gee!” said the other; but then he added, with a laugh, “Well, it was a wet night.” Samuel did not reply. “I'll come to-morrow morning,” he said. “You'd better get out of town, sonny,” advised the other.