"No; what should I see the fellow for?" cried Mr. Bowdoin irritably.
"I understand the State Court House is held like a fort by federal soldiers, and thugs who call themselves deputy marshals."
Mr. Bowdoin growled something that sounded like, "What if it is?"
The two started to walk down town. Tremont Street was crowded with running men, and School Street packed close; and as they came in sight of the Court House they saw that it was surrounded by a line of blue soldiers.
"Let's go to the Court House," said Harley.
The old gentleman's curiosity made feeble resistance.
"I had a case to see about this morning. Why, there's Judge Wells, the very man I want to see."
The judge had a body-guard of policemen, and our two friends joined him as they were slowly forcing a passage through the crowd. When they came before the old gray stone Court House, they saw two cannon posted at the corners, and all the windows full of armed
