“Every person who shall unlawfully disturb the public quiet of any street, alley, avenue, public square, wharf, or any religious or other public assembly, or building public or private, or any neighborhood, private family, or person within the city, by giving false alarms of fire” (Mrs. Armstrong audibly whispered to her husband, “We _never_ did that!”), “by loud or unusual noises” (Mrs. Armstrong sank back in her corner, and Joseph Armstrong very nearly groaned aloud), “by ringing bells, blowing horns or other instruments, etc., etc., shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and punished accordingly.” Then up rose the attorney for the prosecution to state his case. He narrated how the Armstrong family had bought an organ, and had played upon it almost continually since the purchase, thereby greatly annoying and disturbing the entire neighborhood. He said that no member of the Armstrong family knew more than two changes on the organ, and that several of them, in addition to playing, were accustomed to sing in a loud and disagreeable voice (the Armstrong family were visibly affected), and that so great was the noise and disturbance made by the said organ that the prosecuting witness, Miss Beaumont, who was sick at the time, had been agitated and disturbed by it, to her great bodily and mental damage and danger. That although requested to desist, they had not desisted (Tim and Pete exchanged glances of undissembled enjoyment), and therefore she was compelled in self-defence to invoke the aid of the law. Ike listened dully. There was no humor in the situation for him. He felt himself and his whole family disgraced, dragged before the police magistrate just like a common drunk and disorderly loafer, and accused of being a nuisance to their neighborhood; the shame of it tingled to his finger-tips. He would not look up; it seemed to him that he could never hold up his head again. No doubt it would all be in the paper next morning, and the Armstrongs, who were so proud of their honest name, would be the laughing-stock of the town. Somebody was saying something about a lawyer. Ike scowled at the faces of the young attorneys lolling and joking outside the railing. “I won’t fool away any money on those chumps,” he growled; “I want to get through and pay my fine and be done.” Somebody laughed; then he saw that it was the sheriff of the county, a good friend of his. He looked appealingly up at the strong, dark face; he grasped the big hand extended. “I’m in a hole, Mr. Wickliff,” he whispered. “Naw, you’re not,” replied Wickliff; “you’ve a friend in the family. She got onto this plot and came to me a good while ago. We’re all ready. I’ve known her since she was a little girl. Know ’em all, poor things! Say, let _me_ act as your attorney. Don’t have to be a member of the bar to practise in _this_ court. Y’Honor! If it please y’Honor, I’d like to be excused to telephone to some witnesses for the defence.”