A man of extremely nervous type, who continually rattled and fussed with the typewritten pages he held in his hand, represented the Children's Society. Evidently he had prepared quite an argument, Cecilia thought. Close to him sat Rob Roland, and the stout man whom the motor girls had met on the road after the robbery of the mailbag. Cecilia recognized him at once, and he had the audacity to bow slightly to her. There were one or two young fellows down in the corner of the room, sitting so idly and so flagrantly unconcerned that Cecilia knew they must be newspaper men--time enough for them to show interest when anything interesting occurred. The case just disposed of--that of a small boy who had been accused of violating the curfew law--was settled with a reprimand; and as the crestfallen little chap slouched past Cecilia, she could not resist the temptation of putting out her hand and tugging pleasantly at his coat sleeve. "You'll be a good boy now," she said, with her most powerful smile. But the agent of the Children's Society, he with the threatening papers in his hand, called to the boy to sit down, and the tone of voice hurt Cecilia more than the insolent look turned fully upon her by Rob Roland. The judge was ready for the next case--it was that of the Children's Society against Mrs. Salvey. Cecilia could hear the hum from the newspaper corner cease, she saw Mr. Reed, he of Roland, Reed & Company, and the same man who had just bowed to her, take some papers from his pocket. Then the judge announced that he was ready to hear the case. "This woman, your honor," began the nervous man, "is charged with wilfully neglecting her child in the matter of withholding the child from relatives who have for years been both supporting and rendering to the child necessary medical aid." Mrs. Salvey's face flushed scarlet. Cecilia was almost upon her feet. But the others seemed to take the matter as the most ordinary occurrence, and seemed scarcely interested. "This child," went on the agent, "is a cripple"--again Cecilia wanted to shout--"and mentally deficient." "That is false!" cried Mrs. Salvey. "She is mentally brilliant." "One minute, madam," said the judge gently. "To prove that the child has hallucinations," pursued the man, reading from his papers, "I would like to state that for some years she has kept a book--called a promise book. In this she collected the names of all the persons she could induce to put them down, claiming that when the right person should sign she would recover some old, imaginary piece of furniture, which, she claimed, held the spirit of her departed grandfather." The man stopped to smile at his own wit. Cecilia and Mrs. Salvey were too surprised to breathe--they both wanted to "swallow" every breath of air in the room at one gulp. "And the specific charge?" asked the judge, showing some impatience.