re and the Webb men were vociferously in the ascendant. At the time it
resolved itself into a question of tongues.

"This is thick," said Ben Galt, dodging the straw hat with which a
perspiring politician was fanning himself and gently withdrawing himself
from the arms of a scarlet individual in a wet collar to collide with
his double. "Let's go to dinner. Ah! there's the Lion of Democracy--how
are you, Judge?"

The Lion, a striking figure, with a graceful, snow-white mane and a
colossal memory, held out a tireless hand. "Well met, Ben," he exclaimed
in effusive tones. "I've been on the outlook for you all day. One
moment--your pardon--one moment--Ah, my dear sir! my dear sir!" to a
countryman who approached him with outstretched hand, "I am delighted.
Remember you? Why, of course--of course! Your name has escaped me this
instant; but I was speaking of you only yesterday. No, don't tell me!
don't tell me. I remember. Ah, now I have it--one moment, please--it was
after the battle of Seven Pines. You lent me a horse after the battle of
Seven Pines. Thank you--thank you, sir. And your charming lady, who made
me the delicious coffee. My best regards to her."

The great man was surrounded, and Galt and Bassett, leaving him to his
assailants, passed into the dining-room.

Glancing hastily down the long room filled with small, overcrowded
tables, they joined several men who were seated near an open window.

"Hello, Major. Glad to see you, Mr. Slate! How are things down your way,
Colonel?"

A tired negro waiter, with a napkin slung over his arm, drew back the
chairs and deposited two plates of lukewarm soup before the newcomers,
after which he lifted a brush of variegated tissue paper and made
valiant assault upon the flies which overran the tables. Stale odours of
over-cooked food weighted the atmosphere, and waiters bearing enormous
trays above their heads jostled one another as they threaded their
difficult ways. Occasionally the clamour of voices was lost in the
clatter of breaking dishes. Tom Bassett pushed his plate away and mopped
his large forehead. He appeared to have developed without aging in the
last fifteen years--still presenting an aspect of invincible
respectability.

"It's ninety-two degrees in the shade, if it's anything," he declared,
adding, "Has anybody seen Webb to-day?"

The colonel, whose name was Diggs, nodded with his mouth full, and,
having swallowed at his leisure, proceeded to reply, holdin