Then the policeman started to tell the story of what he claimed to have seen. According to this evidence, Noll and Hal had first insulted a young woman with whom Bill Dabner was walking at the time. Bill had naturally resented the insults, and then the soldiers had violently assaulted Bill and his male friend, while the girl broke through the gathering crowd and fled for home. Then Bill came forward, in his best, loudest clothes, and with his hair much greased. Bill's story, under oath, put a few flourishes to Policeman Johnson's plainer tale. Bill's friend was also there and backed up all that the policeman and Dabner had said. "We have plenty of other witnesses, your honor, if you desire to examine more," interposed the policeman. "Where's the young woman herself?" queried Judge Guffey. "Home in bed, ill from the shock, your honor," Bill asserted gravely. "Prisoners at the bar, have you anything to say?" queried Judge Guffey. "Overton?" "I've a lot to say, your honor." In tones ringing with indignation, Corporal Hal Overton, United States Army, gave his version of the affair. Bill Dabner listened with a broad, impudent grin, as Hal told the true story of the encounter of the night before. Then Noll spoke in his own behalf. "I saw the assault myself, your honor, and have other witnesses here for our side if you wish to hear them," said Policeman Johnson. "This testimony is very much confused," commented Judge Guffey at last. "But the evidence of the police officer is evidently worth that of all the other witnesses combined, for the policeman has no personal prejudices in the matter. Prisoners at the bar, you appear to have forgotten that you were sworn into the Army and enrolled among the defenders and protectors of the country. It is no light thing to insult a young woman, even if she does happen to belong to the poorer classes of society. Prisoners, such conduct as yours, under any circumstances, is a disgrace to the splendid uniform that you wear. Soldier hoodlumism shall find no more sanction in this court than any other kind of rowdyism. I sentence you each, therefore----" Judge Guffey's voice paused for a moment, as though the magistrate were thinking deeply. Then he added: "----to thirty days in the workhouse!" CHAPTER XXIII THE WIND CHANGES ITS COURSE AND BLOWS It was a dazing, fearful blow to two lads who had acted in accordance with their highest ideals of right. "Step down there," ordered the court officer, giving the young corporals a light shove. "You've got yours." Policeman Johnson, Bill Dabner and the latter's crony turned to leave, as though satisfied that they had done their duty. At the back of the courtroom there was a slight commotion. Some one there was endeavoring to push his way through the throng. "Your honor, one moment!" called a deep, manly voice. "Before the case of the two soldiers is disposed of I wish----"