This is the boy," as Ralph, obedient to the
lawyer's summons, came into the bar and stood beside him. The judge
scrutinized the lad closely, and the lawyers leaned forward in their
chairs, or came nearer for the purpose of better observation. Ralph
felt somewhat embarrassed, standing there to be stared at so, but the
voice of the judge soon reassured him.
"Ralph," he said, "is this application for a guardian made according
to your desire?"
"Yes, sir," replied the boy; "Mr. Sharpman says I ought to have one."
"And whom do you choose for your guardian?"
"Gran'pa Simon, sir."
Sharpman looked annoyed, and whispered something to Ralph.
"I mean Simon Craft," said the boy, correcting himself.
"Is Simon Craft your grandfather?" asked the judge, sternly.
"Oh, no! I guess not. He made me call 'im that. I never had no
grandfather; but Mr. Sharpman says that Robert Burnham was my
father--and--and he's dead."
The judge looked down at the lad somewhat uncertainly, then he said:
"Well, Ralph, that will do; we'll make the appointment, but," turning
to Sharpman, "we shall watch this matter closely. We shall see that
justice is done to the child in any event."
"It is my earnest wish," responded Sharpman, "that your Honor shall
do so. My only object in the matter is to see that this boy, whom I
firmly believe to be Robert Burnham's son, is restored to his family
and estates, and that this old man, who has saved the lad's life, and
has spent and endured much for him through many years, is adequately
rewarded in his old age.
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