Mr. Hill reflected.  He said he thought perhaps Mr. Worthington did.

“Well,” said Mr. Dodd, “I guess we might as well go along up to the jedge now as any time.”

But when they got there Mr. Dodd’s knock was so timid that he had to repeat it before the judge came to the door and peered at them over his spectacles.

“Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you?” he asked, severely, though he knew well enough.  He had not been taken by surprise many times during the last forty years.  Mr. Dodd explained that they wished a little meeting of the committee.  The judge ushered them into his bedroom, the parlor being too good for such an occasion.

“Now, gentlemen,” said he, “let us get down to business.  Mr. Worthington arrived here to-day, he has seen Mr. Dodd, and Mr. Dodd has seen Mr. Hill.  Mr. Worthington is a political opponent of Jethro Bass, and wishes Miss Wetherell dismissed.  Mr. Dodd and Mr. Hill have agreed, for various reasons which I will spare you, that Miss Wetherell should be dismissed.  Have I stated the case, gentlemen, or have I not?”

Mr. Graves took off his spectacles and wiped them, looking from one to the other of his very uncomfortable fellow-members.  Mr. Hill did not attempt to speak; but Mr. Dodd, who was not sure now that this was not the fire and the other the frying-pan, pulled at his tuft until words came to him.

“Jedge,” he said finally, “I must say I’m a mite surprised.  I must say your language is unwarranted.”

“The truth is never unwarranted,” said the judge.

“For the sake of the fair name of Brampton,” began Mr. Dodd, “we cannot allow—­”

“Mr. Dodd,” interrupted the judge, “I would rather have Mr. Worthington’s arguments from Mr. Worthington himself, if I wanted them at all.  There is no need of prolonging this meeting.  If I were to waste my breath until six o’clock, it would be no use.  I was about to say that your opinions were formed, but I will alter that, and say that your minds are fixed.  You are determined to dismiss Miss Wetherell.  Is it not so?”

“I wish you’d hear me, Jedge,” said Mr. Dodd, desperately.

“Will you kindly answer me yes or no to that question,” said the judge; “my time is valuable.”

“Well, if you put it that way, I guess we are agreed that she hadn’t ought to stay.  Not that I’ve anything against her personally—­”

“All right,” said the judge, with a calmness that made them tremble.  They had never bearded him before.  “All right, you are two to one and no certificate has been issued.  But I tell you this, gentlemen, that you will live to see the day when you will bitterly regret this injustice to an innocent and a noble woman, and Isaac D. Worthington will live to regret it.  You may tell him I said so.  Good day, gentlemen.”

They rose.

“Jedge,” began Mr. Dodd again, “I don’t think you’ve been quite fair with us.”