the atmosphere of Judge Woodworth-Granger's austere office when he
turned his eyes on the person of Mr. James Gollop. Here before him,
grinning and sticking out a plump, friendly hand, was the man to whose
personal similarity he strongly objected, and of whose personal ways he
disapproved.

"And so, sir," said the Judge icily, as he stood up and scrutinized the
drummer, "you are the man who has caused me so much personal
embarrassment, indignity, familiarity, and--if I never loathed my own
appearance before, I can do so now after looking at you!"

Jimmy's grin froze on his face, became hard, and slowly changed to
something very different. His well-meaning hand slowly came back as if
half-paralyzed by such a reception. It had never before been rebuffed.
It was a liberal hand that had gone into its pocket many times to help
those in hard luck. It had never been slow in friendliness or that
courtesy which prevails between well-meaning and generous hands
throughout the sad old world. It had seldom been hastily raised in
anger. But now it shut hard and its owner said, "So that's the way of
it, eh? You're sore because I look like you. Why shouldn't I get hot
under the collar because you look like me? About the only difference
between us is that you're a judge and I'm a drummer. That doesn't keep
you from being a good sport, does it? I came a long way to get
acquainted with you and I like most people. It's not my fault that you
look so much like me, is it?"

"Look like you? It's your fault that you look like me!" snapped the
Judge as if that fault were an impertinence.

"Phew!" said Jimmy, puffing out his cheeks. "That's the sort you are,
eh? Guess I made a mistake."

"I guess you did," grimly said the Judge, mimicking Jimmy's voice
without in the least realizing it. And then he added, "Good day, Mr.
Gollop. I hope I may not see you again and that you travel in some
other territory than this."

As if incredulous, Jimmy stared at him for a full quarter minute and
then, recovering his good humor, clapped his hat on his head and
assuming a highly melodramatic air in imitation of the Judge's ponderous
methods said, "Harold, beware! Beware! I say! It's a long worm that has
no turning. Them papers shall be mine! I swear it on me lyfe." And with
a boisterous shout of laughter turned out through the door and down the
stairs. That ribald laughter still floated upward as he made his
departure, and the Judge was annoyed. Very muc