y blue eye, that glanced aslant at his friend and partner
"Good-morning, Lewis"

"Good-morning, Tom."

Mocket stood by the fire, warming his hands. "If 'twas a mild December,
'tis cold enough now! The wind is icy, and it's blowing hard."

"Is it? I thought the air was still."

As he spoke, Rand arose, replaced the book on the shelf, sat down at his
desk, and began to unfold papers. "Work!" he said presently, in a dull
voice. "Work! That is the straw at which to catch! Perhaps one might
make of it a raft to bear one's weight. I have known the day when in
work I have forgotten hunger, thirst, weariness, calamity. I have worked
at night and grudged an hour to sleep. What I have done, cannot I do
again? But I would work better, Tom, if I could get some sleep."

"I am sorry you have bad nights," said Tom; "but if you slept as deep
and innocent as a babe, you couldn't do better work. That was a praising
piece about you in the Enquirer."

"Nothing less than eulogy, Tom, nothing less! Well--get to work! Get to
work!"

"I've brought the papers on this case that old Berry has been copying."
Tom threw more wood on the fire, then moved to his own desk, dragging a
chair after him. "By the way, I stopped at the Eagle for a dram to keep
out the cold, and who should come riding by but Fairfax Cary--"

"Ah!" said Rand. "Is he home from Richmond?"

"I didn't know that he had been to Richmond."

"Yes. He went two weeks ago."

"I hadn't observed it. Well, whenever he went, he's back again. As I
say, I was coming down the steps, buttoning up my coat, and he drew
rein--he was riding his brother's horse and he looked like his
brother--and he says to me, says he, 'Mr. Mocket,--'"

Tom broke off, turned the papers in his hand, and uttered an exclamation
of disgust. "Old Berry is getting to be too poor a copyist! You'll have
to give this work somewhere else."

Rand spoke in his measured voice. "What did Fairfax Cary say, Tom?"

"Why, he didn't say much, and I'm sure I didn't get any meaning out of
what he did say! His words were, 'Mr. Mocket, I wish I could remember
all that, on several occasions, I must have said to you.' Seeing,"
continued Tom, "that I haven't spoken to him more than a dozen times in
my life, I shouldn't consider there would be much difficulty in that,
and I told him as much. 'You're mistaken,' he said. 'It is difficult. We
all have bad memories. I've been wondering, seeing that I have talked to
you of so much