e!"

"Who's for the defendant?"

"Dreadful, K.C., instructed by Brockett and Bracket."

"Umph! then I suppose there will be explosions and fireworks in Court:
it's usually so when Dreadful starts."

"Gentle Gammon, I see, for the plaintiff. Biggest spoofer on the Law
List, clever though."

Even after the Court appeared to be packed with that overlapping
economy which is a characteristic repose of preserved sardines, small
bodies of juniors, some with wigs, some without wigs, some in whole
gowns, some with their gowns in shreds, forced their way in from other
doors and other Courts. Some conspicuously held briefs borrowed for
the occasion, some did not even pretend to have any such thing.

The stalwart policeman who guarded this second door suddenly became
firm, and closed it with a mighty effort; that is to say, he all but
closed it, only was prevented by the foot and head of the last junior
hurrying in, who howled his agony aloud at having fallen into such a
trap.

"No, no, Mr. Towers," expostulated the tall constable, "can't you see
the Court is full and won't hold another one?"

"Lucas, let me in at once."

"I can't, sir, more than my position is worth."

"Then let me out," howled the suffering junior, "you're crushing my
foot and my neck."

The stalwart policeman lessened a fraction of his weight against the
door, and the imprisoned junior was allowed to scrape himself out as
gradually as his peculiar position would admit.

The one person who considered the presence of the Lion in Court to be
the most natural thing in the world was Ridgwell, who, standing beside
the Writer, peeped through the little glass panel let into the door
leading from a passage to one of the witnesses waiting-rooms.

"Is the Round Game going to commence?" Ridgwell asked the Writer
innocently.

The Writer admitted gravely that the Round Game was going to commence
with a vengeance.

"The ones who lose have to pay the forfeits, haven't they?" persisted
Ridgwell.

"Yes," agreed the Writer. "Exactly--ahem!--heavy forfeits."

"I hope Sir Simon wins then," observed Ridgwell.

"You see that man across there, Ridgwell," remarked the Writer, "big
fierce-looking man making ineffectual efforts to adjust his wig
becomingly over a pair of very big red ears, with two very big red
hands?"

"Yes," agreed Ridgwell.

"With the sort of expression upon his face that the first of the Three
Bears must have worn when he entered Silverl