“What are we going to do with him, Mr. President?” asked one of the men who had the unpleasant duty of standing by and keeping guard over the squire.

“Bind him over to keep the peace,” replied the president.  “Squire Sanders,” he called, and thereat every one held his or her breath, “this is a sad predicament to find an officer in.  In fact the occurrence is a disgrace to the town of Dalton.”

The squire shifted uneasily in the chair.  He had not spoken coherently since the struggle with Ralph, and was still in an ugly mood.  At the same time he understood who now addressed him; the president of the board; the man who had authority to bring matters about so as to deprive him of the office he had held for years.

“Stand up!” called the president, and the squire shuffled awkwardly to his feet.

“What have you to say in this matter?  We have a quorum of the board here present and we may as well dispose of this case.  There is also another count pending against you.  How did you come to let that man Anderson slip out of Dalton so easily—­help him out in fact?  Was his money better than that of the people of this town, who for years have been paying you for duties that you have never honestly performed?”

At the mention of Anderson, Squire Sanders’ face turned from red to a deadly ashen.

“Look out,” cautioned Ralph aside to the president, “he is old you know, and might drop at any moment.”

“Not a bit of it,” went on Mr. MacAllister.  “He is too tough for that.  Speak up, Sanders.  This is your last chance.”

But the man never moved his lips.  Sullen and beaten he sat there while Mr. MacAllister, recounted some of his misdeeds.

“You have disgraced your office,” he declared, “but the most outrageous of your offenses was that of bringing into this office two innocent schoolgirls—­doctoring up a charge against them, trying to force them to acknowledge they had taken part in an affair that they had absolutely nothing to do with—­and all this you did for the paltry fee that goes with each case on your books.  Now, Sanders, I have spoken to the members of the board here present and the verdict in your case is—­that you leave Dalton inside of ten days.  The penalty for contempt in the matter will be a public trial, and, no doubt, imprisonment.”

It was a difficult matter to restrain the boys present.  They wanted to cheer—­to shout, but were not allowed to do so.  Ralph had quite recovered himself now, and so insisted on going alone to the drugstore to have his slight wounds dressed if necessary.  Two of the selectmen looked after Sanders, releasing him of the handcuffs, and advising him “to make himself scarce” around Dalton, until the feeling against him had quieted down some.  All the defiance had left him now; he scarcely raised his head as he crept out the back way to his rooms next door.

Upon hearing the school story in full Mr. MacAllister decided to take his daughter and Tavia back to the school room himself, and set every thing right with Miss Ellis and her pupils.