CHAPTER XXVILittle d**k Smalley’s sturdy frame had been worn thin with anxiety during the days that preceded the trial. While the interest of the town centered in the court-house d**k had been alert and inexhaustible. He and Stubby were on hand at the door ready for service at any hour of the day, and the lawyers learned to know his freckled, anxious face. But only Emily Dillon’s lawyer dared ask a favor of him, for they had learned by experience where his sympathy lay, and that he would not lift a finger for any other, be it Dillon or Granniss or Boggs. He scorned them all.
He had scarcely slept at all for nights, tossing and finally brought to the extremity of thumping his grimy knees down on the bare floor and trying to pray; though his petition was more in the nature of advice than pr
