ket, and lolling back in his chair, tried to regain those
scenes from which Allison had rudely torn him. To further this, he
rested his head in his hand and closed his eyes. But try as he might, he
could not again rid himself of his surroundings, for there was more
movement all over the room as the waiting crowd grew restless, and
directly back of him two men whispered with maddening persistency. For a
time Martin tried to fuse their sibilants into the general buzz, but
failing in this, began to listen to their conversation. In a few seconds
he ceased to hear any of the other sounds going on about him.

--"Then Van doesn't know," one of the men asserted. "I tell you Colton's
ill and he's been assigned to take his place. He's never sat here
before? Well, of course not. That's just the point. You've got a head
like a tack! Now listen to what I say, and, for God's sake, don't make a
mess of it. The order's in a green cover like this----"

The speaker paused and Martin almost turned, but checked himself in
time.

"No, there ain't many this colour.--You can't miss it if you keep awake.
It'll be handed to Van sometime before recess. When he gives it to His
Nibs you watch it like a cat, and the minute he signs it make for the
telephone and notify 'em at the office. They'll keep the wire open. Now
d'ye think you've got sense enough to work this thing straight?"

The other man made no response, but probably nodded, for his companion
continued:

"All right then. I'm o double f. But remember if you botch it, you'll be
wanting a new job."

The speaker rose and passed before Martin, who languidly glanced at him
and then strolled into the Rotunda. Mullin the process-server stood, as
usual, near the door. Martin touched his arm.

"Mullin," he began, "didn't you want to bet me a few days ago that you
knew every man who entered this Court House?"

"Sure. Wanter take me up?"

"Yes," answered Martin, hurrying him toward the right hand stairway.
"Bet you a good cigar you won't know the man in grey clothes we'll see
coming down from the other side."

They had just reached the first landing when the person in question
passed through the open hall below.

Mullin laughed.

"I'll take a 'Carolina Perfecto,'" he said and began to move up the
steps again.

"Do you know him?" questioned Martin, slowly following.

"Sure. Everybody knows him. Give us something harder."

"Well, who is he?"

"Nevis--of course."

"Who's he?"

"