But Ralph Willoby was not so easily misled.

He was just leaving the Bugle office as they came along, and he instantly detected a “story.”

“Come on,” said Alice, “you can be our counsel.  We are under arrest.”

“No need,” objected the squire, “I am well able to attend to this case.”

“But your office is public,” answered Ralph, “and I guess I’ll go along and see what happens.”

“But I say I don’t want any interference,” and the squire raised his voice.  “You newspaper scamps always get things wrong anyway.”

“Probably because you do not give us a chance to get them right,” retorted Ralph.  “This time we will try to stick to facts.”

“Well, when I’m ready to give them out you can have them, but not before,” insisted the angry squire.

“But I’m going along, just the same,” declared Ralph, as Tavia stepped back to walk with him, so that the squire was obliged to go on with Alice, who really seemed to be enjoying the experience.

The office of the justice of the peace was a dingy, dirty little place.  It had served Dalton for the small needs of a public office for some years, Squire Sanders, of course, collecting a good income for its yearly rental.

An old bench was stretched in front of the desk.

The girls sank down on this, making queer “faces” and comical gestures.

“My first offense!” sighed Alice, with mock sadness.

“Same here!” said Tavia in similar tone.

“Since you wish it,” said Ralph to Alice, “I can act as counsel.  You know I really am studying law, and there is nothing like taking cases for experience.”

“Now, no skylarking here,” called out the squire, “I want to hear all about that case, let me see—­the case of—­I’ve got it somewhere,” and he turned the soiled pages of the “records” over rather roughly, considering they were supposed to belong to the town of Dalton.

Tavia was biting her lips.  She felt every moment the laugh would get the better of her and get out on its own accord, but she tried bravely to suppress it.

Ralph was whispering to Alice.  Evidently he was pleased with the information she imparted, for he, too, smiled broadly as the squire called: 

“Octavia Travers, step up to the bar!”

“What for?” asked Tavia saucily.

“To swear—­take your oath—­make your affidavit,” called the squire sharply.

“What’s the charge?” interrupted Ralph.

“‘Sault an’ batt’ry,” snapped the squire.

“Who signed the warrant?” questioned Ralph further.

“See here young feller!” and the squire rapped his cane vigorously upon the desk, “if you don’t let me go on with this case I’ll kick you out.”

“Oh, no, you won’t.  I have as much right here as you have, and I intend to see that you do not, in any way, insult the young ladies!”

“You young scamp!” yelled the squire, making a dash for Ralph and bringing his cane down squarely on the young man’s head, at which Alice and Tavia screamed.