But he had that enterprise and lack of modesty which has lately become the fashion among young lawyers--and is spreading fast among the old ones, too--which carried him into places and cases where simply learning would have left him without a brief. If a case did not come to Lawyer Hammer, Lawyer Hammer went to the case, laid hold of it by force, and took possession of it as a kidnaper carries off a child.

Hammer was a forerunner of the type of lawyer so common in our centers of population today, such as one sees chasing ambulances through the streets with a business-card in one hand and a contract in the other; such as arrives at the scene of wreck, fire, and accident along with the undertaker, and always ahead of the doctors and police.

Hammer had his nose in the wind the minute that Constable Frost came into town with his prisoner. Before Joe had been in jail an hour he had engaged himself to defend that unsophisticated youngster, and had drawn from him an order on Mrs. Newbolt for twenty-five dollars. He had demanded fifty as his retainer, but Joe knew that his mother had but twenty-five dollars saved out of his wages, and no more. He would not budge a cent beyond that amount.

So, as Mrs. Newbolt and Colonel Price approached the jail that morning, they beheld the sheriff and Lawyer Hammer coming down the steps of the county prison, and between them Joe, like _Eugene Aram_, "with gyves upon his wrists." The sheriff was taking Joe out to arraign him before the circuit judge to plead to the indictment.

The court convened in that same building where all the county's business was centered, and there was no necessity for taking the prisoner out through one door and in at another, for there was a pa.s.sage from cells to court-rooms. But if he had taken Joe that way, the sheriff would have lost a seldom-presented opportunity of showing himself on the streets in charge of a prisoner accused of homicide, to say nothing of the grand opening for the use of his ancient wrist-irons.

Lawyer Hammer also enjoyed his distinction in that short march. He leaned over and whispered in his client's ear, so that there would be no doubt left in the public understanding of his relations to the prisoner, and he took Joe's arm and added his physical support to his legal as they descended the steps.

Mrs. Newbolt was painfully shocked by the sight of the irons on Joe's wrists. She groaned as if they clamped the flesh of her own.

"Oh, they didn't need to do that," she moaned.

Joe doubtless heard her, for he lifted his face and ran his eyes through the crowd which had gathered. When he found her he smiled. That was the first look Colonel Price ever had taken into the lad's face.

"No," said he, answering her anguished outbreak with a fervency that came from his heart, "there was no need of that at all."

They followed the sheriff and his charge into the court-room, where Mrs.

Newbolt introduced Colonel Price to her son. While Joe and his mother sat in whispered conversation at the attorney's table, the colonel studied the youth's countenance.

He had expected to meet a weak-faced, bony-necked, shock-headed type of gangling youngster such as ranged the Kentucky hills in his own boyhood. At best he had hoped for nothing more than a slow-headed, tobacco-chewing rascal with dodging, animal eyes. The colonel's pleasure, then, both as an artist and an honest man, was great on beholding this unusual face, strong and clear, as inflexible in its molded lines of high purpose and valiant deeds as a carving in Flemish oak.

Here was the Peter Newbolt of long ago, remodeled in a stronger cast, with more n.o.bility in his brow, more promise in his long, bony jaw. Here was no boy at all, but a man, full-founded and rugged, and as honest as daylight, the colonel knew.

Colonel Price was prepared to believe whatever that young fellow might say, and to maintain it before the world. He was at once troubled to see Hammer mixed up in the case, for he detested Hammer as a plebeian smelling of grease, who had shouldered his unwelcome person into a company of his betters, which he could neither dignify nor grace.

The proceedings in court were brief. Joe stood, upon the reading of the long, rambling information by the prosecuting attorney, and entered a calm and dignified plea of not guilty. He was held without bond for trial two weeks from that day.

In the sheriff's office Mrs. Newbolt and the colonel sat with Joe, his wrists free from the humiliating irons, and talked the situation over.

Hammer was waiting on the outside. Colonel Price having waved him away, not considering for a moment the lowering of himself to include Hammer in the conference.

The colonel found that he could not fall into an easy, advisory att.i.tude with Joe. He could not even suggest what he had so strongly recommended to Mrs. Newbolt before meeting her son--that he make a clean breast of all that took place between himself and Isom Chase before the tragedy.

Colonel Price felt that he would be taking an offensive and unwarranted liberty in offering any advice at all on that head. Whatever his reasons for concealment and silence were, the colonel told himself, the young man would be found in the end justified; or if there was a revelation to be made, then he would make it at the proper time without being pressed.

Of that the colonel felt sure. A gentleman could be trusted.

But there was another matter upon which the colonel had no scruples of silence, and that was the subject of the attorney upon whom Joe had settled to conduct his affairs.

"That man Hammer is not, to say the least, the very best lawyer in Shelbyville," said he.

"No, I don't suppose he is," allowed Joe.

"Now, I believe in you, Joe, as strong as any man can believe in another----"

"Thank you, sir," said Joe, lifting his solemn eyes to the colonel's face. The colonel nodded his acknowledgment.

"But, no matter how innocent you are, you've got to stand trial on this outrageous charge, and the county attorney he's a hard and unsparing man. You'll need brains on your side as well as innocence, for innocence alone seldom gets a man off. And I'm sorry to tell you, son, that Jeff Hammer hasn't got the brains you'll need in your lawyer. He never did have 'em, and he never will have 'em--never in this mortal world!"

"I thought he seemed kind of sharp," said Joe, coloring a little at the colonel's implied charge that he had been taken in.

"He is sharp," admitted the colonel, "but that's all there is to him. He can wiggle and squirm like a snake; but he's got no dignity, and no learnin', and what he don't know about law would make a book bigger than the biggest dictionary you ever saw."

"Land's sake!" said Mrs. Newbolt, lifting up her hands despairingly.

"Oh, I guess he'll do, Colonel Price," said Joe.

"My advice would be to turn him out and put somebody else in his place, one of the old, respectable heads of the profession here, like Judge Burns."

"I wouldn't like to do that, colonel," said Joe.

"Well, we'll see how he behaves," the colonel yielded, seeing that Joe felt in honor bound to Hammer, now that he had engaged him. "We can put somebody else in if he goes to cuttin' up too many didoes and capers."

Joe agreed that they could, and gave his mother a great deal of comfort and a.s.surance by his cheerful way of facing what lay ahead of him. He told her not to worry on his account, and not to come too often and wear herself out in the long walk.

"Look after the chickens and things, Mother," said he, "and I'll be out of here in two weeks to help you along. There's ten dollars coming to you from Isom's; you collect that and buy yourself some things."

He told her of the order that he had given Hammer for the retaining fee, and asked her to take it up.

"I'll make it up to you, Mother, when I get this thing settled and can go to work again," said he.

Tears came into her eyes, but no trace of emotion was to be marked by any change in her immobile face.

"Lord bless you, son, it all belongs to you!" she said.

"Do you care about reading?" the colonel inquired, scarcely supposing that he did, considering the chances which had been his for development in that way.

Mrs. Newbolt answered for Joe, who was slow and deliberative of speech, and always stopped to weigh his answer to a question, no matter how obvious the reply must be.

"Oh, Colonel Price, if you could see him!" said she proudly. "Before he was ten years old he'd read the _Cottage Encyclopedy_ and the _Imitation_ and the Bible--from back to back!"

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're of a studious mind," said the colonel.

As often as Joe had heard his mother boast of his achievements with those three notable books, he had not yet grown hardened to it. It always gave him a feeling of foolishness, and drowned him in blushes.

Now it required some time for him to disentangle himself, but presently he looked at the colonel with a queer smile, as he said:

"Mother always tells that on me."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," comforted the colonel, marking his confusion.

"And all the books he's borrowed since then!" said she, conveying a sense of magnitude by the stress of her expression. "He strained his eyes so when he was seventeen readin' Shuckspur's writings that the teacher let him have I thought he'd have to put on specs."

"My daughter and I have a considerable number of books," said the colonel, beginning to feel about for a bit more elegance in his method of expression, as a thing due from one man of culture to another, "and if you will express your desires I'm sure we shall be glad to supply you if the scope of our library permits."

Joe thanked him for the offer, that strange little smile coming over his face again.

"It wouldn't take much of a library, Colonel Price, to have a great many books in it that I've never read," said he. "I haven't been easy enough in my mind since this thing came up to think about reading--I've got a book in my pocket that I'd forgotten all about until you mentioned books." He lifted the skirt of his short coat, his pocket bulging from the volume wedged into it. "I'll have a job getting it out, too," said he.

"It don't seem to be a very heavy volume," smiled the colonel. "What work is it?"