Channing no
more touched that money than any of you did. The post-office must have
had it."
"A moment, Mr. Roland Yorke: if you can calm yourself sufficiently to
answer as a rational being," interposed the magistrate who had
addressed Arthur. "Have you any proof to urge in support of your
assertion that the prisoner did not touch it?"
"Proof, sir!" returned Roland, subsiding, however, into a tone of more
respect: "does it want proof to establish the innocence of Arthur
Channing? Every action of his past life is proof. He is honest as the
day."
"This warm feeling does you credit, in one sense--"
"It does me no credit at all," fiercely interrupted Roland. "I don't
defend him because he is my friend; I don't defend him because we are
in the same office, and sit side by side at the same desk; I do it,
because I know him to be innocent."
"How do you know it?"
"He _could_ not be guilty. He is incapable of it. Better accuse me, or
Jenkins, than accuse him!"
"You and Jenkins were not at the office during the suspected time."
"Well, I know we were not," acknowledged Roland, lowering his voice to
a more reasonable tone. "And, just because it happened, by some
cross-grained luck, that Channing was, Butterby pitches upon him, and
accuses him of the theft. He never did it! and I'll say it with my last
breath."
With some trouble: threatenings on the part of the court, and more
explosions from himself: Mr.
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