protested against it as impracticable and contended that they were hired for no such miracles of speed, "Lemme go fur 'em," Ned would beg; "I'll git 'em as soon as the printers let me off!" To be sure Ned had his trifling rewards, his favors being duly reciprocated in the way of small change, but these tokens were obviously unexpected, the simple little boy regarding them rather as free-will gratuities, mere gifts from sheer kindness, than as payment for services. No wonder the dude reporter was willing to exert himself. But how could he urge these trifling indicia of temperament and character, albeit Ned's opportunities were commensurately small? The reporter hesitated, and the sarcastic justice remarked at last, "May I remind your wisdom that the court awaits your pleasure?" The blond young man--the very wave of his dainty cow-lick on his handsome forehead was an offense to the bluff justice--flushed, but replied with good temper,-- "Your honor knows that in the nature of things but little can be said for a mere child, whose opportunities for wrong-doing are limited as well as--" "Perhaps not so limited as one might well think!" the magistrate interposed significantly. "He has no position of trust, of course, but he has been faithful over the few things in his care. I know the boy to be greatly esteemed by his employers,--hard-working, punctual, careful, honest so far as I have ever heard or observed, eager to please, industrious, cheerful, willing, the most kindly disposed little fellow I ever saw in my life." The justice rapped impatiently on his desk. "_This_ is not to the purpose," he said. "Will you give bail for him?" "In ignorance of the circumstances of the crime?--no, your honor, I will not." "Will the paper go on his bail-bond?" "_I_ cannot speak for the management, naturally." The justice, with the air of a man whose time has been unwarrantably wasted, turned back to the defendant. He inquired of Ned in curt accents if he could find bail, evidently expecting the negative answer which he received. In view of the testimony against him and the prisoner's own statement the justice declared that it was impossible to consider his release. There was anger in the magistrate's eye and impatience in the bang of his blotting-pad as he signed the "mittimus" commanding the officer who had made the arrest to deliver the prisoner to the jailer of the county. There the printer's devil was to await his trial at the next term of the criminal court; and Peter Bateman, when duly arraigned among the "drunk-and-disorderlies" in the police court, escaped with a reprimand because of his youth and the fact of a first offense, and was discharged and at liberty once more.