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 “How economics do clog the paths of virtue!” said Wilkins.

“You mean,” said Trueman sharply, “that, knowing the facts as you do—knowing this child’s innocence, you will, nevertheless, send him to trial?”

“I do not know he is innocent. It is for the jury to say.”

“Then,” said Wilkins, and his question was a pointed thorn, “as an expert in such matters, you believe there’s a chance to get a conviction?”

Once more Crane’s eyes blazed as he glanced at the tall, thin form lopping straddle-legged across the office chair. “I hope,” he said, “that justice will be done…. I shall see that it is done.”

“Have you no consideration of the element of mercy?” Trueman demanded. He got to his feet and his face was severe. In the door he paused. “You have disappointed me, Mr. Crane, as a man, a public officer, but mostly as a Christian, you have disappointed me.”

Crane was a picture of resignation under the strokes of unjust misunderstanding. He spread his hands and shook his head slowly. Trueman and Wilkins left the office in silence.

“Wa-al?” said Dave when they were outside.

“What’s to do now?” asked the minister. Then his face became determined. “Wilkins, I’m