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Contents
1. Cover
2. Title Page
3. Copyright Page
4. About the Author
5. About the Source Code and Project files
6. Contents
7. 1 Introduction to the Arduino

1. What Is an Arduino?
2. Why the Arduino Mega 2560?
3. The Arduino Mega 2560 Specifications
4. The Official Arduino Mega 2560
5. Arduino Mega 2560 Components
6. Overview of the C/C++ Language for the Arduino
7. Arduino Development System Requirements
8. Hands-on Example: A Simple Arduino “Hello World”
Program with an LED
9. Summary

8. 2 Introduction to the ESP8266

1. What Is the ESP8266

2. Technical Specification of the ESP8266
3. The ESP-01 Module
4. Overview of Essential AT Commands
5. Quick Start Guide to the AT Command Set
6. Hands-on Example: Using an ESP-01 with an Arduino
Mega 2560
7. The NodeMCU
8. Hands-on Example: The Blink Sketch
9. Hands-on Example: Multiple Blinking External LEDs
10. Summary

9. 3 Introduction to the Android

 1. What Is Android?
2. Hands-on Example: The Hello World Example
3. Importing Projects Between Android Studio Versions
4. Summary
10. 4 Arduino with ESP-01 and Android Basic Wireless Framework

1. The Arduino with ESP-01 and Android Basic Wireless

Communication Framework Overview
2. The Android Client Wireless Communication Framework
Code
3. The Menu Items
4. The WifiMessageHandler Class
5. Class Overview
6. The WifiMessageHandler Class Constructor
7. The MainActivity Class
8. The Arduino with ESP-01 Server Wireless Communication
Framework Code
9. Hands-on Example: The Basic Arduino, ESP-01, and
Android Wireless Communications Framework
10. Summary

11. 5 Arduino with ESP8266 (ESP-01 Module) and Android Wireless

Sensor and Remote Control Projects I

1. General System Overview

2. The HC-SR501 Infrared Motion Detector
3. Hands-on Example: The HC-SR501 Infrared Motion
Detector Alarm System
4. The FC-04 Sound Sensor
5. Hands-on Example: The Wireless Sound Sensor Alarm
System
6. The HC-SR04 Distance Sensor
7. Hands-on Example: HC-SR04 Distance Sensor Intruder
Alarm System
8. The YL-38/YL-69 Water/Moisture Detector
9. Hands-on Example: The Water Detector Water Leak
Wireless Alarm System
10. The Light Emitting Diode (LED)
11. Hands-on Example: The Remote Wireless Control of an
LED
12. The RGB LED (Common Ground Version)
 13. Hands-on Example: The Remote Wireless RGB LED
Control System
14. The CEM-1203(42) Piezo Buzzer
15. Hands-on Example: The Remote Wireless Piezo Buzzer
Control System
16. Summary
12. 6 Arduino with ESP8266 (ESP-01 Module) and Android Wireless
Sensor and Remote Control Projects II

1. The Reed Switch Magnetic Field Sensor

2. Hands-on Example: The Wireless Reed Switch Door Entry
Alarm System
3. The Ywrobot Flame Sensor
4. Hands-on Example: The Wireless Flame Sensor Fire Alarm
System
5. The Sunfounder Tilt Switch Sensor
6. Hands-on Example: The Tilt/Vibrate Wireless Alarm
System
7. TMP36 Temperature Sensor
8. Hands-on Example: The TMP36 Wireless Temperature
Monitoring and Alarm System
9. The Photo Resistor
10. Hands-on Example: The Wireless Remote Controlled Light
Activated LED
11. The DHT11 Temperature/Humidity Sensor
12. Hands-on Example: The Wireless DHT11
Temperature/Humidity Remote Monitoring and Alarm
System
13. Arduino Cameras
14. Hands-on Example: The ArduCAM OV2640 Camera
Wireless Remote Surveillance System
15. Summary

13. 7 Standalone ESP8266 (Model: NodeMCU ESP-12E) and Android

Wireless Sensor and Remote Control Projects

1. The Android and NodeMCU (ESP-12E) Wireless System

Overview
2. Modifying the Android Basic Wireless Framework for the
NodeMCU (ESP-12E) Platform
 3. The NodeMCU (ESP-12E) Basic Wireless Server
Framework
4. Hands-on Example: The Basic Wireless Framework Version
1.3 for the Android and NodeMCU Microprocessor
5. Hands-on Example: The Wireless Glass Break/Sound
Detector Alarm System
6. Hands-on Example: The Wireless HC-SR501 Infrared
Motion Detector Alarm System
7. The SW520D Tilt and Vibration Sensor
8. Hands-on Example: The Wireless Tilt and Vibration Sensor
System
9. The KeyesIR Obstacle Avoidance Sensor
10. Hands-on Example: The Wireless KeyesIR Obstacle
Avoidance Alarm System
11. The Funduino Water Level Sensor
12. Hands-on Example: The Wireless Water Level Detector
Alarm System
13. Summary
14. 8 Android, Arduino, ESP-01, and NodeMCU ESP-12E Wireless
Sensor and Remote Control Projects

1. The ArduCAM Mini OV2640 2MP Plus

2. Hands-on Example: The Wireless ArduCAM Mini 2MP Plus
Camera Surveillance System
3. Hands-on Example: The Wireless ArduCAM Mini OV2640
2MP Plus Camera and HC-SR501 Infrared Motion Detector
Surveillance and Alarm System for the Arduino Mega 2560
Server
4. The Basic Android, Arduino with ESP-01, and NodeMCU
Wireless Multi-Client Framework
5. Overview of the Android Basic Wireless Framework Version
2.0 Application
6. Example of Setting Up the Arduino with ESP-01 for
Station/Client Mode
7. Hands-on Example: The ArduCAM OV2640 2MP Mini Plus
Camera Arduino Mega 2560 Client Surveillance System
with NodeMCU Server
8. Hands-on Example: The ArduCAM OV2640 2MP Mini Plus
Infrared Motion Detection Arduino Mega 2560 Client
Surveillance and Alarm System with NodeMCU Server
 9. Hands-on Example: The Infrared Motion Detection Alarm
System Using the NodeMCU Server
10. Hands-on Example: The ArduCAM OV2640 2MP Mini Plus
and Infrared Motion Detection Arduino Mega 2560 Client
Surveillance and Alarm System with NodeMCU Server with
an Infrared Motion Detection Alarm System
11. Summary
15. 9 The Bonus Chapter: The Emergency Backup Battery Power
System, Power Intensive Related Projects, Using the NodeMCU with
an ArduCAM Mini Camera, and Some Important Downloads

1. Circuit Troubleshooting Tips

2. Android Basic Wireless Framework APKs
3. Converting the Android Basic Wireless Framework Version
2.0 Project from Android Studio 1.5 to Android Studio 2.3.1
4. The Automatic Battery Backup Power Supply System
5. The SG90 9g Micro Servo
6. The YwRobot 545043 Power Supply Module for a
Breadboard
7. Hands-on Example: The Wireless Remote Control Servo
System Using the Arduino Mega 2560 and ESP-01 Server
8. Hands-on Example: The Remote Control Wireless DC
Motor Control System Using the Arduino Mega 2560 with
an ESP-01 Server
9. The Stepper Motor and the ULN2003 Stepper Motor Driver
Board
10. Hands-on Example: The Wireless Remote Controlled
Stepper Motor System Using the Arduino Mega 2560 and
the ESP-01 Server
11. The ArduCAM Library and GitHub
12. Hands-on Example: The Wireless NodeMCU and ArduCAM
Mini OV2640 Plus Surveillance System
13. The MQ-2 Smoke Detector
14. The 5-V Active Buzzer
15. Hands-on Example: The Wireless Remote Controlled
Smoke Detector Alarm System Using the Arduino Mega
2560 and the ESP-01 Server
16. The MQ-2 Smoke Detector (Analog Version)
17. Hands-on Example: Wireless Remote Controlled Smoke
Detector (Analog) Alarm System Using Arduino and ESP-
01
 18. Summary
16. Index

Guide
1. Cover
2. Title Page
3. A DIY Smart Home Guide: Tools for Automating Your Home
Monitoring and Security Using Arduino, ESP8266, and Android

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table where Brant must have stood. Then he placed the chairs on
either side of the table, about where they were when Harding and
Langford had sat in them. The stage set, he began his
demonstration:
“Now, we know that Harding was hit on the side of his face nearest
to you, but that proves nothing more than that he might have turned
away just at the moment of the firing. But if you will hold the end of
this tape, I’ll show you that Brant couldn’t have fired that shot from
your end of the table, unless it turned a corner in Harding’s head.”
He unwound the tape, gave one end of it to Antrim, and drew it taut
as nearly as might be through the space where the murdered man’s
head must have been. That done, he turned and stared blankly at his
assistant.
“What is it?” Antrim demanded.
“B’gosh, I’ve proved too much!” said the reporter. “Can’t you see?
The bullet that made this hole in the wall was fired from about where
you stand. By Jove! that lets young Langford out, but say, it puts
Brant in head over ears!”
Antrim dropped his end of the tape and thrust his hands into his
pockets. “Just the same, I don’t believe it,” he said doggedly. “And,
what’s more, I never will until Brant admits it himself.”
“Bully for you!” cried Jarvis heartily. “You are the kind of a friend to
have at a pinch! Well, there is nothing more to be found out here.
Let’s go down and have a drink, and then you’ll tell me more about
that burglary business. I was so full of this other thing that I didn’t
quite catch on.”
“No drinks,” said Antrim briefly when they were once more in the
street and Jarvis was pointing for a barroom. “Come up to Mrs.
Seeley’s with me, if you like, and I’ll tell you and show you all there is
to be heard and seen.”
Jarvis acquiesced, grumbling, and the chief clerk was as good as his
word. But if the reporter made any fresh discoveries in Brant’s room
he kept his own counsel. By this time Antrim was catching at straws.
The meeting with Jarvis and the experiment with the tape measure in
the card room damped his courage, and left his belief in Brant’s
innocence more nearly shaken than it had been at any time during
the eventful day. None the less, he remained steadfast, as his last
word to Jarvis testified.
“You are interested in getting to the bottom of this thing on general
principles, aren’t you?” he asked, as he let the reporter out at the
street door.
“Sure thing.”
“I supposed so. Well, you just go ahead on the supposition that Brant
didn’t do it, and you will be more likely to succeed. Good night.”
“You are a crank,” said the reporter, laughing, as he ran down the
steps.
And yet such is the impact of one man’s assertion hurled repeatedly
against a wall of self-evident fact that Jarvis actually found himself
ignoring the evidence and building theories based on the major “if.”
He toppled them over as fast as they rose, but they straightway grew
again, and it took another conference with his chief, the night editor,
to fully fortify his reason against the assaults of Antrim’s insistent
faith.
 CHAPTER XXVIII
HOW THE JUDGE GAVE OF HIS BEST

Having done what he might for his friend on the Saturday, Antrim
thought he should not err in devoting the Sunday afternoon to his
own affair, and to this end he turned his face to the Highlands as
soon as he could break away from the Sunday duties which entangle
the railway servant. He was a little later than usual; and Isabel, after
waiting half an hour, avenged her pique by going out with Mrs.
Hobart. Dorothy, meeting Antrim at the gate as she was starting for
the mission school, was unable to tell him whither they had gone.
Wouldn’t he go in and wait?
Piqued in his turn, Antrim decided he would not go in and wait. He
had meant to do no more at present than to try to resume the old
relation with Isabel, and he thought she might have suffered this, the
more willingly since it was her own expressed wish. But if she were
not yet complaisant——
Before he had argued the case to its irritant conclusion he found
himself walking townward with Dorothy. They missed a car by a
minute or two, and Antrim halted at the corner to wait for the next.
“I have time enough, and we can walk on until a car overtakes us, if
you care to,” said Dorothy, who had a reason of her own for desiring
an uninterrupted interview with her companion.
“I’d like to walk,” replied Antrim, whose mood welcomed a diversion
of any sort.
They went on together, and mutual constraint immediately thrust a
barrier of silence between them. Antrim thought he knew enough of
Brant’s secret to make him hesitate to speak first of the thing which
he imagined was uppermost in Dorothy’s mind; and Dorothy was
made dumb by a great sympathy for Antrim in his disappointment.
None the less, she was the first to break the silence.
“Have you—have you been to see Mr. Brant since the—” She could
not give it a name, and Antrim promptly forestalled the necessity.
“Yes; I was with him for half an hour yesterday afternoon.”
Dorothy meant to go straight on to the end she had in view, but her
courage failed, and she had to bridge the gap with a commonplace.
“Isn’t it dreadful!” she said.
“That depends upon how you look at it,” rejoined Antrim, forgetting
for the moment to whom he was talking. “I don’t believe Brant is
guilty.”
“O Harry!” Dorothy stopped, and the quick tears blinded her.
Whereupon Antrim realized, with a pang of remorse for his
thoughtlessness, what such an assertion must mean to William
Langford’s sister, and he made haste to comfort her.
“You mustn’t take it for granted that I am accusing Will. I am not; I
just leave him out of the question altogether, and stick to Brant for
what I know of him. He wouldn’t do such a thing any more than I
would.”
Dorothy could not so easily avoid the apparently inevitable
conclusion, but her enthusiasm rose unbidden at the tribute to the
worth of the man whom she loved.
“I want to think so too, Harry—oh, so much! But papa says he
doesn’t deny it.”
“No, he doesn’t; and he doesn’t affirm it, either. And till he does, I am
not going to believe it,” said Antrim stoutly.
At this conjuncture it occurred to Dorothy that Antrim was behaving
very nobly toward his successful rival, and she found space to lay a
little offering on the altar of manly friendship.
“It is very generous of you, Harry, to feel that way after what has
happened. I have been afraid you might feel just the least bit
vindictive.”
“Vindictive? You don’t know what I owe him, Dorothy. It is a bigger
debt than I ever owed any one before, and I’d pay it if it took the last
thing I have in the world.”
“It has taken the thing you valued most, hasn’t it?” said Dorothy, with
heartfelt sympathy in voice and eyes. “Poor Isabel! It is a dreadful
blow for her! And she is taking it so strangely.”
Antrim was properly mystified, but he got no farther than to say:
“Isabel? I am afraid I don’t quite understand.”
“Surely she has told you,” said Dorothy, who could not imagine
anything like duplicity on the part of her outspoken sister.
Now Isabel had told him but one thing of any considerable
importance to a lover, and Antrim’s thought naturally reverted to that
thing.
“Oh, yes,” he rejoined, trying to speak lightly. “She gave me my
quittance for good and all a while back, but—” He was going on to
add that it is a long lane that has no turning, when Dorothy
interrupted:
“I knew she would tell you first! And now this dreadful thing has
come between them. Harry, I believe it will kill her if she has to give
him up now. She is acting so strangely that I fairly tremble for her
reason.”
Antrim throttled a wild impulse to give place to madness and forced
himself to say, as calmly as might be, “Then she has told you that—
that she loves Brant?”
Dorothy decided on the spur of the moment that it was no time for
half confidences.
“Yes; and that isn’t the worst of it. She sent him away because—
because she didn’t know her own heart, I suppose. I told her he
would come back; and now he never can. Isn’t it too pitiful!”
Antrim thought it was—in more senses than one. More than that, it
was blankly incredible, or rather it would be apart from Dorothy’s
positive assertion. Could he have been so purblind as not to have
seen what was going on before his very eyes? Reason said No; but
a misconception, once endowed with the breath of life, is sure to find
plenty to fatten upon, and the atoms of corroborative evidence began
to assemble quickly with Dorothy’s declaration for a nucleus.
This was why Brant had been so sure that he knew Isabel’s
preference; and he had been mistaken, after all. This was why he
had stopped going to Hollywood, and why he had been so quick to
deny even the hint of a love affair with Dorothy. And Isabel: had she
not steadfastly refused to say in so many words that she did not love
any one else?
Antrim called himself hard names under his breath, and in the first
flush of the new misery would have been glad to be able to charge
his friend with insincerity. He saw the injustice of that in time to fight
it down, and then rancour gave place to honest admiration. How
unselfishly Brant had effaced himself, and how quick he had been to
succour and to offer comfort and countenance to his rival! That, too,
seemed incredible, even to Brant’s best friend; but since incredible
things were the order of the day, it was decently in keeping with all
the other happenings of a time which was hopelessly out of joint.
So Antrim assured himself, with what resignation he could
command; but for all that, this latest buffet of the boxer Misfortune
was as a bolt from the blue, and he staggered under it, though not
toward the abyss, since he had lately had his lesson and had
profited by it.
While he was trying to face the necessity of discussing this newest
phase of the many-sided problem with becoming stoicism a car
overtook them and privacy was at an end. By the time the car had
reached the crossing nearest the mission school he had fought and
won his battle—the fiercest, and, as it chanced, the most
unnecessary, that had ever been thrust upon him—and was ready
with an assurance of good faith which was quite as sincere as it was
costly.
“We mustn’t be discouraged, and we must just go on hoping against
hope,” he said, when he took Dorothy’s hand at parting. “It is a most
intricate tangle, and I can’t begin to unravel it yet; but you may count
on one thing: what one man may do to help Brant will be done. You
have told me some things that I didn’t know before, but I shall work
all the harder for knowing them. And if—if you think it will do any
good, you may tell Isabel that.”
After which generous confession of faith he left her and went to his
office, being minded to dull the keen edge of the new trouble on the
grindstone of hard work. The dulling process was but fairly in train
when the door opened to admit Forsyth.
“Do you allow a man to trespass on Sunday?” he asked, feeling for
the latch of the gate in the counter-railing.
“Surely, when the man is as good a friend as you are. Come in and
sit down.”
“It is about Brant, or I shouldn’t trouble you,” explained the editor,
drawing up a chair. “I have been to see him again, and he is more
obstinate than ever—if that be possible. He said you were there
yesterday, and I came to see if you had been able to do anything
with him.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t be. Have you anything new to offer?”
“No.”
“Well, I have. It is pretty plain to you that Brant will hang, lacking
strong counsel, isn’t it?”
“Plainer than I wish it were.”
“Very good. Now there is just one lawyer in Christendom, so far as I
know, whose services he can’t well refuse.”
“Who is it?”
“Judge Langford,” said the editor, crossing his legs and nursing one
knee.
“But, good Lord, Forsyth, you are losing your grip! Have you
forgotten that the judge is William Langford’s father?”
“I have forgotten nothing. From your point of view it would be out of
the question, I grant you; but so far as heard from, you are the only
person who doesn’t believe Brant did it. Now I am convinced that he
did, and the judge is quite as sure that he did; so the difficulties on
that side vanish. I don’t see what is to prevent the judge from taking
the case, if he chooses to.”
“I do. If he should clear Brant it would reopen the entire question as
to Will. You know that as well as I do.”
“He can’t clear him; nobody can do more than get him a light
sentence. But if he could clear him, the boy is well out of it. You were
with Jarvis last night, and you helped him make the discovery that
the shot was fired in line with the door; that it could not well have
been fired from young Langford’s position.”
“Yes, but——”
“But what? Will you say that the judge is an invalid? or that his family
connection with the affair should exempt him?”
“Ye-yes; either or both. That is about what I was going to say.”
“Waiving the first objection,—the judge is a good deal better than a
sick man,—the second is precisely the reason why he should be
willing to offer his services—why he must offer them.”
“How so?”
“Because the thing happened while Brant was in the service of the
family. You know what I mean.”
“I do; but I’d like to know how you found it out.”
Forsyth laughed. “You have forgotten that you told Jarvis the whole
story last night. But no matter about that: don’t you see the judge’s
necessity now?”
“Yes, I don’t know but I do. But supposing the judge doesn’t see it?”
“He must be made to see it; and that brings me up to date. You know
him well; can’t you undertake to enlist him?”
“Frankly, I can’t; and you have given the reason: I know him too well.
He has been a second father to me since my own died.”
“All right; I didn’t know,” said the editor, rising to go. “Somebody has
it to do, and I thought perhaps you might be able to do it best.”
“Who else have you in mind?”
“Nobody. I am going to tackle him myself.”
“You?”
“Yes. Why not? I know the facts, and not being a personal friend, I
sha’n’t scruple to use them. I am going over there now. Will you
come along?”
“Not unless you make a point of it. I should only hamper you.”
“I don’t make a point of it. Let me see; the house is Number Sixteen,
isn’t it?”
“Yes, Altamont Terrace. Don’t be too savage with him, Forsyth. He
has had lots of grief lately.”
“He will have more if he shirks in this affair. But I sha’n’t be any
harsher with him than I have to be.”
Half an hour later Forsyth rang the Hollywood door bell, and sent his
card to the judge, who presently received his visitor in the library.
“I am right glad to see you, Mr. Forsyth,” he said, rising and shaking
hands cordially with the editor. “No, don’t apologize for coming; you
are very welcome. Be seated.”
Forsyth took the proffered chair and plunged at once into the midst
of his errand.
“It is about Brant, as you will infer. Yesterday you asked me to try
again to make him listen to reason in the matter of employing
counsel. I have tried thrice, and failed.”
“Does he still refuse to give his reasons?”
“He does.”
“And is he fully aware of the probable consequences?”
“As fully aware as we are.”
“H’m! that is bad. Have you anything to suggest, Mr. Forsyth?”
“Yes. There is one person whose services he can not well decline.”
“There is? And who is this person?”
“Yourself.”
The judge rose quickly and went to the window, turning his back
upon his visitor. It was full five minutes before he spoke again, and
the editor waited patiently.
“I can scarcely believe you know what you ask, Mr. Forsyth,” said the
judge at length, coming slowly back to his chair. “If the
circumstances were different, if my own son were not unfortunately
involved, I should be the first to volunteer.”
“My dear sir, that is precisely the reason why you should volunteer,”
said Forsyth firmly. “Bear with me a moment while I show you how
the matter presents itself to an unbiassed outsider. Your son absents
himself, and, knowing his habits, you and the other members of the
family are justly anxious. In response to a request from one of your
daughters——”
“Pardon me, but how did you learn that? From him?”
“No, indeed. I learned it, indirectly, from Miss Dorothy herself. As I
was saying, in response to this request my friend undertakes the not
unhazardous task of finding and rescuing your son. He does the first,
and in trying to do the second he commits a crime which, account for
it as you may, would not have been committed at that time and place
if Brant had been less willing to help you and yours. Do I make my
point of view quite clear?”
“Quite.”
“Very well. Under such circumstances the least you can do for my
friend is to defend him. No one else can do it as well. Your mere
presence in court as his counsel may well save his life. Ask yourself
the question seriously, Judge Langford, and if your own sense of
justice will allow you to refuse, I have nothing more to say.”
The judge leaned back in his chair and stared absently at the handful
of fire in the grate. Forsyth’s appeal reopened the question which he
thought he had settled once for all the day before, and the
arguments for and against began once more to marshal themselves
for a fiercer conflict. Before the battle began he made one more
effort to postpone it.
“You ignore the fact that I might end by directing suspicion against
my own son, Mr. Forsyth.”
“I do. I ignore everything but the question of simple justice and a just
man’s obligations.”
The fight was on, and the judge left his chair to pace the floor with
his hands behind him and his head bowed. Forsyth had told him no
new thing. His duty had been clear enough from the moment of
Dorothy’s confession. But the frankness of the editor’s appeal; the
grave ruthlessness with which he held the responsibility up as
something to be decided apart from personal considerations—a
thing affecting justice, and honour, and uprightness—this touched
him very nearly. But opposed to this his fatherhood rose up in mighty
protest pleading as only paternal love can plead for the supremacy
over all abstractions of whatsoever kind or degree. The struggle was
long and bitter; and seeing the story of it writing itself in deeply
graven lines upon the judge’s face as he paced slowly back and
forth, Forsyth had to harden his heart more than once while he
awaited the outcome. “It is the father against the man, but the man
will win,” he said to himself; and as he prophesied, so it came to
pass.
“You have won your cause, Mr. Forsyth.” The judge stopped before
the editor’s chair and spoke abruptly. “Go you to the young man and
tender him my services, and let me know as soon as may be if he
will accept them.”
Forsyth sprang to his feet and wrung the elder man’s hand gratefully.
“God bless you, Judge Langford; it is a noble thing for you to do!
Don’t think for a moment that I undervalue the cost. And now let me
tell you something which will make your task easier. One of my
young men made some experiments last night in the card room at
the Osirian. The result proved conclusively that the shot was fired
from some point in line with the door; that it could not well have been
fired from the chair in which your son was sitting.”
“Thank God for that!” exclaimed the judge fervently; but he added
quickly: “I am glad you withheld that—glad you gave me the
opportunity to give of my best. You will see Brant at once?”
Forsyth hesitated. “As my friend’s friend, I am entirely at his service
and yours. But don’t you think it will be as well if you go to him
unannounced?”
The judge thought about it for a moment.
“In view of his most singular obstinacy, perhaps it will. It is worth
trying, at all events. I will go to-morrow morning.”
“Thank you again,” said the editor, finding his hat. “I presume I need
not say that we have little time to lose. The Grand Jury meets to-
morrow, and Brant will doubtless be indicted during the week.”
“So I have been informed. No matter; we shall be diligent. If the
young man will only confide in me we may be able to discover
something which will serve to—to palliate his crime and to mitigate
the severity of the inevitable sentence.”
So spoke the judge, as though the question of his client’s guilt was a
question fully answered. But when he went to the door with his visitor
he ventured a query which seemed to admit the thin edge of the
wedge of uncertainty.
“There is no shadow of doubt in your mind, is there, Mr. Forsyth?—
as to his guilt, I mean.”
“None whatever,” rejoined the editor sorrowfully. And he went his
way saddened by the thought that he could answer no otherwise.
 CHAPTER XXIX
IN WHICH A WILFUL MAN HAS HIS WAY

Since obstinacy, like a hound that is beaten, is constrained to course

the truer for the blows of the whipper-in, two days of confinement
and the anxious expostulations of Forsyth and Antrim appeared to
have no mellowing effect upon the man who stood charged with the
murder of James Harding. So far from it, time and the friendly efforts
of the allies seemed but to crystallize reticent impulse into a fixed
purpose strong to defeat any helpful emprise on the part of his
friends.
Failing to beat down the guard of reticence in any face-to-face
encounter, Forsyth had not been above bribing the turnkey to spy
upon his prisoner; but if the man’s report was to be believed, the
bribe was money wasted. Brant spent the time in reading, was calm
and cheerful, and cared not to know what the newspapers were
saying about him. A model prisoner in every respect, and a man
whom he (the turnkey) would be sorry to see hanged.
So ran the purchased report, and to all outward appearances the
morning of the third day of his confinement found the prisoner in the
same equable frame of mind. But if he fancied he had fortified the
gate of silence until it was proof against the batterings of friendship,
he had left unguarded a postern opening upon the innermost citadel
of whatsoever resolution he was defending. By this postern he was
presently to be assaulted, as was apparent when the jailer unlocked
the cell door to admit Judge Langford. None the less, he welcomed
his visitor heartily, and with becoming warmth.
“Good morning, Judge Langford. This is kind of you. I hardly
expected to see you here,” he said, doing the honours of his
cramped quarters as best he might.
The judge stood his cane in a corner and sat down on the edge of
the cot.
“That doesn’t speak well for your good opinion of me,” he rejoined
genially. “At our last meeting—in your office, if you remember—I
gave you to understand that you had placed me under obligations
which I should gladly repay. Since then you have added somewhat
to the score, and I am here to do what I may to square the account.”
Brant bowed. If he suspected what was coming he made no sign,
choosing rather to let the judge find his own way to what was toward.
“After the examination, Saturday, I met your friend Forsyth—and, by
the way, he is a good friend of yours, too. He tells me that you refuse
to employ counsel, and that without giving any reason. Now we can
not allow that, you know, and to make it impossible for you to persist,
I have this morning taken out a license to practice in the Colorado
courts for the express purpose of defending you.”
“Of what?” exclaimed the prisoner. It was a hopeful sign that the
judge had beaten down the guard of self-possession that Brant
sprang up and began to tramp, three steps and a turn.
“Of defending you, I said. And I am here now to beg you to speak
freely to me as client to advocate.”
“But, my dear sir! it is impossible—utterly impossible! You don’t know
what you have undertaken.”
“I think I do; and I am ready and willing to do my best for you. But to
that end you must be candid with me.”
“I say you do not know,” Brant insisted, going back of the admonition
and speaking to the assertion. “Let me ask you one question, Judge
Langford: Have you remembered that, as my counsel, you would be
obliged to cross-examine your own son?”
“I have.”
“Good God! And you would do it? Why—” The prisoner checked
himself suddenly, as one on the verge of a precipice, faced about,
and went on more calmly: “But you must know that I wouldn’t allow it.
It is the height of generosity and unselfishness on your part to offer
it, but I can not accept—indeed, I can not.”
“You must accept; it is my privilege to insist.”
“And mine to refuse, ungracious as it may seem. I can not give you
my reasons, and you must not ask them. But I’ll say to you what I
have not said to anybody else. If I should suffer you to do this thing
which you propose you would never forgive me as long as you live!”
The judge met him firmly on his own ground. “That is only adding
mystery to mystery. Be frank with me, Mr. Brant, at whatever cost to
yourself, or to any one.”
There was no reply to this, and the judge pressed his advantage
vigorously. “Let us put away all equivocation and seek only to
understand each other,” he went on. “You have committed this
crime”—the prisoner looked up quickly, and seemed to draw breath
of relief—“you have committed this crime, and for some reason, real
or fancied, you are determined to make no effort to save yourself.
From a purely self-centred point of view this may seem right and
proper; but you must remember that no man lives or dies to himself.
You owe something to your friends; you owe something to me, since
it was at least a part of your errand last Friday night to find my son
and to send him home.”
“Then you know—” Brant began, but the judge went on quickly:
“I know that much, and no more. It is for you to tell me the rest.”
“I can’t do it, Judge Langford, and you must forgive me if I still insist
that you do not know what you are asking of me. I appreciate your
kindness more than I can tell, but I can not suffer it. I have sins
enough to answer for, God knows, without adding another for which
there would be no forgiveness in this world or the next.”
The judge shook his head slowly. “Your point of view grows more
and more inexplicable, Mr. Brant. In what possible way could your
confidence in me wrong any one?”
Brant leaned against the wall with folded arms, the gray eyes
narrowing and the firm jaw settling itself in rigid lines.
“Perhaps the word was ill chosen. But if I should do as you ask,
there would be sorrow and grief and misery where I would fain see
happiness. And for myself there would be regrets deep and lifelong.
You will say this is more mystery, but I can not help it. I know quite
well what I am doing, and I have counted the cost to the last farthing.
My life has been a sorry failure, Judge Langford—so poor a thing
that I can afford to give it freely if the law shall demand it.”
The judge pursed his lips and made another step in the outworking
of the problem of deduction.
“Am I to understand by this that free speech on your part would
involve others besides yourself?” he asked.
“It would involve others—yes, many others.”
“Without making your defense less hopeless than it appears to be at
present?”
“Without bringing me anything that I could endure with half the
fortitude that I shall take to the gallows. No; your sympathy and
loving-kindness are very comforting to me, but you must pardon me
if I say that they are quite undeserved. Whatever the jury sees fit to
give me will doubtless have been earned, and well earned.”
The judge saw that the time for winning his client’s confidence was
not yet ripe, and he rose and buttoned his coat.
“You are still giving me riddles, Mr. Brant, and while you elect to do
that, no one can help you intelligently. I am not going to press you
further this morning, but I shall come again—and yet again.
Meanwhile, I am ready and anxious to act for you the moment you
will permit it. I can’t say more, can I?”
He held out his hand, and Brant’s grasp of it was not without
emotion.
“No one could be kinder than you, Judge Langford; and some time,
in this world or another, you shall know that I am not ungrateful.”
When the judge was fairly out of the cell and the sound of his
footsteps had died away in the corridor, Brant threw himself upon the
cot and groaned aloud. But his speech was of gratitude.
“Thank God, that trial is over! If they could devise many more such
torments as that, I’d hang myself to the grating and have done with
it!”
That evening, at nine o’clock, a fact leaked out which Forsyth
hastened to telephone to the house in the Highlands: the Grand Jury
had found a true bill against George Brant for the wilful murder of
James Harding.
 CHAPTER XXX
HOW LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP THREW A MAIN

For two weeks after the judge’s first interview with his unwilling
client the possibility of successfully defending Brant receded steadily,
and no new discoveries came to countermine the wall of evidence
which was slowly and surely closing in upon him.
In this interval Colonel Bowran had returned, and, contrary to Brant’s
expectation or desire, had at once championed his draughtsman’s
cause. There had been more than one stormy interview—they were
tempestuous on the colonel’s part, at least—in which the chief
engineer’s wrath was directed at Brant’s obduracy. And when
expostulation and friendly abuse had failed, the colonel sought out
Judge Langford and Forsyth, joining forces cordially with the
prisoner’s friends, but bringing nothing helpful in the way of
additional information.
On the other hand, the prosecution lacked nothing but the culprit’s
confession of having a complete case. Brant’s record was exploited,
and the details of his previous quarrel with Harding, or so much of
them as were known to Draco’s bartender, were dragged out of
Deverney as sound teeth are extracted from the jaw of an unwilling
patient.
So much of the State’s side of the case was known to Brant’s friends
—by what means Forsyth’s young men could best have explained—
and there was consternation among them in just proportion. If the
tide could not be stemmed before the rapidly approaching day of the
trial, the judge knew he should go into court without any case. And,
making due allowance for the change that had recently been
wrought in public sentiment, he had every reason to fear the worst
for his client.
“I tell you, Forsyth, the man will hang in spite of everything we can
do.”
So much the judge was impelled to say in one of the many
conferences with the editor, and Forsyth had nothing to offer in
rebuttal.
“I’m afraid he will,” said the editor. And then: “We are all in the same
boat, and on the same side of the boat—all but Harry Antrim. He still
asserts his belief in Brant’s innocence. In his way he is as obdurate
as Brant himself. But it is entirely sentiment on his part. I wish his
faith had a better foundation.”
So Antrim had wished many times; and after having racked his brain
for a fortnight for something tangible wherewith to buttress his belief,
he was finally indebted to the chapter of accidents for a clew which
seemed to point most hopefully.
It was in the afternoon of that day in which Judge Langford had
summed up Brant’s case in the talk with the editor. Antrim had been
rummaging in his safe for a missing paper, and had chanced to
come upon the sealed envelope given him by Brant for safe-keeping
on the morning after the burglary at Mrs. Seeley’s.
His first impulse was to send it posthaste to the judge; his next was
to break the seal and read the sworn evidence of Harding’s guilt in
the year-agone crime committed in Taggett’s Gulch. Five minutes
later he was writing a note to Dorothy, begging her to come quickly
to the office.
Dorothy answered the note in person, and Antrim took her into the
superintendent’s room and closed the door. What he had to say
brooked neither listeners nor interruptions.
“I’m awfully glad you came right away,” he began. “I was afraid
something might hinder you, and what I want to talk about won’t
wait.”
Dorothy sat down in the superintendent’s big chair and unpinned her
veil. “I was just getting ready to come down for Isabel when Tommie
came. He said it was a ‘rush message,’ so I caught the next car.”
“That was lucky.” Antrim was tramping up and down before her, full
to bursting with his news. Suddenly he stopped and confronted her.
“Dorothy, would you still be glad to believe that Brant isn’t guilty?”
She sat up very straight at this and the sensitive chin quivered a
little. “That is a hard question, Harry. If it wasn’t Mr. Brant——”
“I know what you are thinking about,” he broke in. “But just leave Will
out of it entirely; try to forget that he was there.”
“If I could do that, the question—your question—would answer itself.”
“That is all I want to know. Now I have believed all along that Brant
didn’t do it; and a little while ago I found some papers which go to
show that he could have no possible motive for doing it. It isn’t
necessary to go over the whole thing, but you will understand what I
mean when I tell you that these papers are Brant’s, and any time he
wanted to get rid of Harding all he had to do was to turn them over to
the district attorney of Pitkin County. That would have been the end
of Mr. Murderer Harding as soon as they could catch and hang him.”
“You say you found these papers—where?”
“In my safe. Brant gave them to me to keep for him.”
“Do you know why he did that?”
“No.”
“I do.” She tugged at the fingers of her glove and a light came into
her eyes that told Antrim more than she would have admitted by
word of mouth under torture. “It was because he was afraid to keep
them; afraid he might be tempted to let the law do what everybody is
saying he did with his own hand. Harry, he is innocent!”
“Of course he is; that is what I’ve been saying all along. Now there
are two of us who believe it, and something has got to be done
quick.”
“What had you thought of?”
“I can’t think—I’m too foolishly rattled to think; and that is why I sent
for you. You can plan all around the rest of us. What do you say?”