pet-baggers who all have a reason for being paid for something by the
Government. There's one of them now--that little Hoosier hanging about
the doorway. He's from North Carolina, and wants pay for a herd of
cattle."

In the hall outside the lobby a little man stood gazing with pale small
eyes intent upon the enchanted space within. He wore a suit of blue jeans
evidently made in the domestic circle. He scanned each member of Congress
who went in or out, and his expression was a combination of furtive
eagerness and tentative appeal.

"I believe I've seen him before," remarked Judge Rutherford, "but I don't
know him."

"He's been hanging about the place for weeks," said Farquhar. "He's
always in the strangers' gallery when claims come up for discussion. He
looks as if he'd be likely to get what he has come for, Hoosier as he
is."

"I want to talk to you about the De Willoughbys," said Rutherford. "I
can't rest until I've told someone about it. I want you to advise me what
to do."

Farquhar allowed himself to be led away into a more secluded spot. He was
not, it must be confessed, greatly interested, but he was well disposed
towards the member from Hamlin and would listen. They sat down together
in one of the rooms where such talk might be carried on, and the Judge
forthwith plunged into his story.

It was, as his own instincts had told him, a good story. He was at once
simple and ornate in the telling--simple in his broad directness, and
ornate in his dramatic and emotional touches. He began with the picture
of the De Willoughbys of Delisleville--the autocratic and aristocratic
Judge, the two picturesque sons, and the big, unpicturesque one who
disappeared from his native town to reappear in the mountains of North
Carolina and live his primitive life there as the object of general
adulation. He unconsciously made Big Tom the most picturesque figure of
the lot. Long before he had finished sketching him, Farquhar--who had
been looking out of the window--turned his face towards him. He began to
feel himself repaid for his amiable if somewhat casual attention. He did
not look out of the window again. The history of big Tom De Willoughby
alone was worth hearing. Farquhar did not find it necessary to call Judge
Rutherford's attention to the fact that Sheba and the mystery of Blair's
Hollow were not to be regarded as evidence. He realised that they adorned
the situation and seemed to prove things whether it was strictly t