"No, Judge. A fellow called to me and I turned my head to see who he was. Next thing I knew I was climbing over the curb."
"How long have you been driving a car?"
"Two years."
"And don't know enough yet to watch the road? How long were you looking the other way?"
"Not more than five seconds."
"Then I'm afraid we'll have to make it two dollars a second. A fine of ten dollars may make you more careful in the future. Next case, Samuel Sickles against Herbert Quinby, charge assault and battery."
Bert stood up and found that his knees were seized with a strange fit of trembling. It was only a few steps from his bench to the railing in front of the judge's desk, but the distance seemed to sap him and to leave him weak. A sweat broke out along his forehead; the shuffling of the spectators seemed to come to his ears as from a great distance. And then he felt an arm pressed against his—his father's arm.
Judge Manning stared down from his seat of power and looked at the complaint in doubt. "How about this, Harry," he said. "You're not mentioned in these papers. Are you mixed up in this case?"
"No, your Honor," Mr. Quinby answered. "My boy is in trouble and I'm here to see him through it."
