you won’t ever get here. Stand a litter furder west — so — that’s it; it’s a prime comfort to see faces that’s friendly when a body’s in such a muck of trouble, and there don’t none come here but yourn. Good friendly faces — good friendly faces. Git up on one another’s backs and let me touch ’em.

That’s it. Shake hands — yourn’ll come through the bars, but mine’s too big. Little hands, and weak — but they’ve helped Muff Potter a power, and they’d help him more if they could.”

Tom went home miserable, and his dreams that night were full of horrors. The next day and the day after, he hung about the courtroom, drawn by an almost irresistible impulse to go in, but forcing himself