But he concealed his cruelty and his avarice under a mask of benignity.  He was fat, jolly and sympathetic, and his smile was the smile of a warm-hearted humanitarian.  The milk of human kindness oozed from his every pore.  In fact, he was always grumbling about the amount of work he had to do for nothing.  He was a genial, generous host; unostentatiously conspicuous in the local religious life of his denomination; in court a model of obsequious urbanity, deferential to the judges before whom he appeared and courteous to all with whom he was thrown in contact.  A good-natured, easy-going, simple-minded fat man; deliberate, slow of speech, well-meaning, with honesty sticking out all over him, you would have said; one in whom the widow and the orphan would have found a staunch protector and an unselfish friend.  And now, having thus subtly connoted the character of our villain, let us proceed with our narrative.

The telephone buzzed on the wall set beside him.

“That you, chief?” came the voice of Simpkins.

“Yep.”

“Got one off Delany.”

“What is it?”

“Kid smashed a window—­malicious mischief.  Held for examination to-morrow at two.  Five hundred bail.”

“Any sugar?”

“Don’t know.  Says his father’s dead and mother earns seventeen a week in a sweatshop and sends him to school.  Got some insurance.  I’m going right round there now.”

“Well,” replied Hogan, “don’t scare her by taking too much off her at first.  I suppose there’s evidence to hold him?”

“Sure.  Delany says he saw it.”

“All right.  But go easy!  Good night.”

“Leave that to me, chief!” assured Simpkins.  “See you to-morrow.”

It will be observed that in this professional interchange nothing at all was said regarding the possibility of establishing Tony’s innocence, but that on the contrary Mr. Simpkins’ mind was concentrated upon his mother’s ability to pay.  This was the only really important consideration to either of them.  But Hogan did not worry, because he knew that Simpkins would skilfully entangle Mrs. Mathusek in such a web of apprehension that rather than face her fears she would if necessary go out and steal the money.  So Mr. Raphael B. Hogan hung up the receiver and with his heart full of gentle sympathy for all mankind walked slowly home, pausing to get some roses for Mrs. Hogan and to buy a box for Daddy Long Legs at the Strand, for whenever he got a new case he always made it the occasion for a family party, and he wanted the children to benefit by passing an evening under the sweet influence of Miss Pickford.