“I suppose so,” he rejoined, sinking into an easy chair beside her.  “Is Arthur back yet?”

“No,” said Louise, answering for her husband, “he is probably staying to do all he can for the poor boy.”

“Did you get a lawyer?” inquired Beth.

“I got a fellow who claims to be a lawyer; but I’m not sure he will be of any use.”

Then he related his interview with Colby, to the amusement of his nieces, all three of whom approved the course he had taken and were already prepared to vouch for the briefless barrister’s ability, on the grounds that eccentricity meant talent.

“You see,” explained Miss Patsy, “he has nothing else to do but jump heart and soul into this case, so Ajo will be able to command his exclusive services, which with some big, bustling lawyer would be impossible.”

Luncheon was over before Arthur finally appeared, looking somewhat grave and perturbed.

“They won’t accept bail,” he reported.  “Jones must stay in jail until his formal examination, and if they then decide that he is really Jack Andrews he will remain in jail until his extradition papers arrive.”

“When will he be examined?” asked Louise.

“Whenever the judge feels in the humor, it seems.  Our lawyer demanded Jones’ release at once, on the ground that a mistake of identity had been made; but the stupid judge is of the opinion that the charge against our friend is valid.  At any rate he refused to let him go.  He wouldn’t even argue the case at present.  He issues a warrant on a charge of larceny, claps a man in jail whether innocent or not, and refuses to let him explain anything or prove his innocence until a formal examination is held.”

“There is some justice in that,” remarked Uncle John.  “Suppose Jones is guilty; it would be a mistake to let him go free until a thorough examination had been made.”

“And if he is innocent, he will have spent several days in jail, been worried and disgraced, and there is no redress for the false imprisonment.  The judge won’t even apologize to him!”

“It’s all in the interests of law and order, I suppose,” said Patsy; “but the law seems dreadfully inadequate to protect the innocent.  I suppose it’s because the courts are run by cheap and incompetent people who couldn’t earn a salary in any other way.”

“Someone must run them, and it isn’t an ambitious man’s job,” replied Uncle John.  “What do you think of the lawyer I sent you, Arthur?”

The young ranchman smiled.

“He’s a wonder, Uncle.  He seemed to know more about the case than Jones or I did, and more about the law than the judge did.  He’s an irrepressible fellow, and told that rascal Le Drieux a lot about pearls that the expert never had heard before.  Where did you find him, sir?”

Uncle John explained.

“Well,” said Arthur, “I think Jones is in good hands.  Colby has secured him a private room at the jail, with a bath and all the comforts of home.  Meals are to be sent in from a restaurant and when I left the place the jailer had gone out to buy Jones a stock of books to while away his leisure hours—­which are bound to be numerous.  I’d no idea a prisoner could live in such luxury.”