"Ah," with quick dislike, "disappointed us? You've been treacherous to us." He was quiet, waiting to hear what she had further to say. "With your power," contemptuously, "with your prestige, to just talk, to sermonize and philosophize and make no appeal for him, for Terry. Oh," said the girl excitedly, "it was like going past a drowning person in a boat, telling all the while how to make the boat safer for all the safe people, letting the person drown----" She caught her breath with a sob. Sard and Dunstan looked wonderingly on this sudden eloquence. It was not Minga's way to vibrate to the sorrow of the under-dog. Only Watts' shrewd brain guessed at the emotions that underlay the girl's present scorn. The trained eyes perceived what was the dynamo that augmented this passion. With something very tender in the gesture he tried to take Minga's hand but she swerved from him. She did not, however, abandon the discussion, and Dunstan, his lace masked and suspicious, stood back of her. The youth scowled as Shipman asked slowly, "If you had what you call my power, just what would you do? Open all the prisons and turn out all the criminals? Use it to protect one poor lad or to protect many lads and old men and women and children? Do you know that Terry's mind is psychologically the kind of mind that naturally resorts to violence to get what it wants?" "But you have never believed that Terry would be pardoned or you might have gotten pardon, or a fine, or something," vaguely. "That was what we wanted. You never really tried!" the girl passionately insisted. "Nothing that you have said this morning but acknowledged that you believed him guilty. You didn't insist on his having another chance!" The man standing there bareheaded, the lines strong on his kind face, his dark, white dappled head conspicuous under the low hanging elm branches, looked wonderingly at her, seeing the tears cloud her eyes. He longed, as he had longed before, to meet this defiant little spirit with a passion of tenderness, yet an old discipline controlled him. With his sober grasp of life he sought to help her. "You mean," the lawyer said slowly, "that I have never believed him guiltless! No, I haven't; we all heard his guilt proved. You expected him to be freed because of his youth; you thought that possible. I never did. Child," said the man, "there is always punishment for wrong-doing; it is automatic. Whether it comes of the courts or of life, it comes! Don't you realize that even a life-sentence might be merciful; a deterrent, to keep Terry from the worse crimes to which his inheritance and environment might lead him? Try to have patience!" Shipman held out his hand; he tried to make her meet his eyes. He laid the power of his spirit on her. "You want better, more intelligent human laws, more enlightened justice," he said gravely; "so do I. But, do you know how best to get freedom and justice for all peoples----? By obeying such law as there is!"