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To compound a felony.

Those are just words, Judge, and words don’t matter much to me. I might say I was n’t asking you to compound a felony. I was askin’ you to save a sinner, but those would be just words too. There ’s nobody else; you ’ve got to help me.

(thoughtfully)

I ’ve always thought a lot could be done for Ben, by a good lawyer.

It does n’t matter how, so long as it ’s done.

He was drinking, with a crowd of young men; the two Kimbal boys jumped on him and beat him up rather badly. That ’s about all we know, aside from the fact that Ben was drunk, and that that night the Kimbals’ barn was set on fire.

Just so long as you can get him off, Judge.

I think a case of assault could be made against the Kimbal boys, and I think it would stand.

What of it?

It is quite possible that the old man, if he knew that action was to be taken against his sons, and if he could be tactfully assured of payment for his barn, say by Ben, in a year’s time, might be persuaded to petition to have the indictment against Ben with-