Just then there came a violent ring at the door-bell, and Dr. Manning exclaimed: “That’s the judge, now. I’m ever so glad he’s come.” In a moment more the keen, penetrating eyes of the old lawyer were busily reading, with practiced skill, every line and shade on the face of Barnaby Vernon. “The money and papers are all right,” remarked the doctor, “but our young friend refuses to take any reward or to tell me how he came by the wallet. He says he stole it.” “Stole it!” almost shouted the judge. “Stole it from the man who found it, I suppose?” “That’s it,” said Bar. “One man found it in Dr. Manning’s pocket. He gave it away to another man, at once, and he to another, and he to another way back in the crowd. I stole it from that man--or rather, for I was honest about it, I traded him another wallet for it.” “You’re a deep one,” exclaimed the judge. “I think I’d better have you arrested.” “Go ahead,” said Bar, quietly. “Arrest him!” exclaimed the doctor. “What for, I’d like to know?” “For bringing back your pocketbook,” said Bar. “Well, well, young man,” said the lawyer, half apologetically, “I don’t mean that, exactly. But it’s all very strange. Don’t you think you deserve any reward?” “Certainly,” said Bar; “it’s cost me a deal of trouble and worry, besides my carriage-hire this morning.” “Why won’t you take it, then?” asked the puzzled doctor. “I was going to ask something better than an arrest,” said Bar. “Come, come,” said the judge, “I’ll take that all back. I never was so interested in anything in all my life. What is it you want?” “Nothing,” said Bar, “except a little advice, and so I brought my fee with me.” “Advice!” exclaimed the doctor. “Why, you look about the stoutest, healthiest fellow of your age I’ve seen in a month.” “So I am,” said Bar, “but I want advice, nevertheless. You see, I’ve heard that you doctors are the only men living that can keep a secret, and I can’t get the advice I want without telling mine. So as soon as the judge is gone I’ll tell it.” “That’s a little the coolest!” growled the old lawyer. “Why, young man, doctors are no more professional secret-keepers than we are.” “But the doctor owes me a fee, a big one, and you don’t,” said Bar. “Never mind,” said the doctor, “we’ll take the judge in as counsel. I’ll pay his fee if he asks for one.” “The boy’s fee enough,” exclaimed the judge. “Never saw anything like him. Don’t let him send me away, Doctor. Look here, young man, it may be you want a lawyer more’n you do a doctor.” “Very likely,” said Bar, “and I s’pose a fellow’s own counsel is bound to side with him? Have you time now, or shall I call again?” “Call again?” shouted the judge. “Do you want me to burst? Out with it, now? How did you come by that wallet?”