What one man knew in Mayville was every man’s property. Gossip always spread through the town like wildfire. So it happened that on the morning of the arrival of the _Nancy Jane_ and the _Spray_ there was a buzzing and a shaking of heads and a wagging of tongues; and before long the whole town knew that something of vast importance was about to take place up at Squire Ellis’s court. “It’s those young fellows that set the hotel afire over across at Southport,” said a certain tall, gaunt individual, who happened to be the centre of an excited group on one of the street corners, near the town pump. “I hear as how Squire Barker is going to defend them, but they do say he’s got no case, because I heard Lem Stevens say as he heard Squire Brackett declare he saw them young chaps down in the billiard-room of the hotel along about midnight, and the fire started pretty quick after that.” “Well, guess they’ll catch it if Squire Brackett is on their trail,” volunteered another of the group. “He ain’t given to showing kindness to anybody, much less to a lot of firebugs.” “I don’t believe they ever done it, anyway,” ventured a third. “They don’t seem like that kind, from all I can learn, and they do say as how they pitched in and saved a lot of Colonel Witham’s boarders from being burned in their beds, when the flames was a-spreadin’ fast.” And so the gossip waged, this way and that, while impatient knots of idlers hung around the entrance to Squire Ellis’s court, waiting for ten o’clock, when proceedings should begin. Shortly before the old town clock beat out the ten solemn strokes that proclaimed the formal sitting of justice, a whisper ran along the line of loiterers, “Here he comes. It’s the judge.” And that person of great importance, a short, thick-set man, with a quick, nervous step, an energetic, sharp manner, but, withal, a kindly eye, entered the court-room. The next moment the clock announced his punctuality. The crowd swarmed into the court-room, stuffy and hot enough already, and the air vibrated with expectancy. Proceeding up the long village street at this moment was a little group, headed by Captain Sam, not wholly unimpressed with the importance of his own part in the affair, the boys and Mrs. Warren following, and, not far in the rear, the colonel and the squire. Just as they reached the court-room door, Captain Sam halted the little party for a moment, and, not without reluctance, said: “Well, boys, I suppose I’ll have to serve these ’ere warrants before we go inside. I’m free to say I’m sorry to do it, but they’re the orders of this ’ere honourable court, and they must be obeyed by me, a sworn officer of the law.” And having disposed of this somewhat painful formality, Captain Sam opened the door and the party were in court.