Virgene Rich was the beauty of the little seaport town of B——, notwithstanding that she had only been a couple of years across the threshold of her “teens.”

She was the daughter of landlord Rich, of the “Anchorage Tavern,” and every one in B—— loved her, especially the lads.

Her most persistent admirer was Scott Clemmons, though he could not boast of having been more favored by her than others.

Now, as he saw her advance as a witness, his face paled and flushed by turns, for what would she, a girl, have to say of a quarrel among men, he wondered.

“Well, Miss Virgene, do you voluntarily appear in this case?” asked the judge, with a kindly smile.

“I do, Judge Miller, because I deem it my duty to do so, for if not I would not make myself appear so forward,” was the low yet distinct response.

“Kiss the Book then, Miss Virgene, and let me hear what you have to say.”

The girl obeyed, and then said in a voice that not one failed to hear:

“I was seated in my room, sir, over the tavern parlor when I saw a surf-skiff running for shore, and noticed it particularly on account of its being so well handled.

“Right beneath stood five young men, whom I see here now. Scott Clemmons recognized the occupant of the skiff, that youth there, whose name I believe is Mark Merrill.

“A plan was at once formed, as they expressed it, to ‘clip the sea cub’s claws,’ and as Master Merrill landed they went toward him.

“He had a toy ship in his hand, and I heard him tell a sailor, this gentleman here, who met him, that he intended to sell it to my father, as he had to get money to send the doctor to his mother, who was very ill.

“Then these five young gentlemen,” and Virgene’s sarcastic reference to them made the five youths wince, “met Master Mark Merrill, and at once began to sneer at his boat, and Scott Clemmons took it from him, asking if it could stand a cyclone.

“Then Scott Clemmons bade Ben Birney hold out his arms, which he did, and turning quickly with the boat at a level, he crushed it into a wreck.”

A murmur ran through the crowd at this, and the accused did not like the look upon the face of the judge as he said:

“Well, Miss Virgene, what else?”

“Why, Master Merrill at once knocked both Scott Clemmons and Ben Birney down, as he ought to have done, Judge Miller,” was the spirited reply of the young girl.

“I agree with you, Miss Virgene—ahem! ahem!” and the judge cut off his own decided unjudicial expression of his private opinion with a loud cough.

Resuming her testimony, Virgene Rich said:

“Scott Clemmons rose quickly, sir, and drawing a knife, rushed upon Master Merrill with a threat to kill him, when he was struck a blow with the hull of the wrecked boat that stunned him.”

“The prisoner, Mark Merrill, struck the blow?”

“Yes, Judge Miller, in self-defense; and the others then, led by Ben Birney, were about to spring upon him, when this gentleman frightened them off with what seems was an unloaded weapon,” and Virgene’s musical laughter was contagious, for many joined in until the judge, checking the broad grin upon his own face, commanded sternly:

“Silence in court!”

The judge was a terror to evil-doers, and was obeyed with alacrity, while Virgene went on to tell the story of the constable’s arrest of the wrong parties.

“Constable Roe, you should not allow self-interest to lead you into error, sir, for the real culprits before me are Scott Clemmons, Ben Birney, et al.

“Miss Virgene, I thank you for your clear testimony of the facts, and discharge the accused, while I order the arrest of these young men, and shall bind them over to keep the peace, while you, Clemmons, must at once pay this youth for his boat, or I shall send you to jail.”

Then, turning to Mark Merrill, Judge Miller asked:

“Are you the lad who saved a schooner from being wrecked in Hopeless Haven some months ago?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am glad to know you, my lad, for you took desperate chances for your own life to save others from death. Ah, Mr. Clemmons, you are here, I suppose, to pay your son’s just debt to this brave youth, and to offer bail for your boy, who can congratulate himself upon his escaping so lightly,” and Judge Miller turned to a fine-looking old gentleman who had entered court, hearing his son had been arrested.

“I am here, your honor, to do what is right,” was the cold response of merchant Clemmons.

“He ought to have fifty dollars for the boat, for it was worth it,” said the sailor bluntly.

“No, my price was only fifteen dollars, and I would not take that from him were it not for my mother’s being ill,” said Mark Merrill.

The amount was paid by merchant Clemmons, and Mark Merrill hastened from the court room, accompanied by his newly-made friend, Jack Judson, sailor.