onorably
split the last glass, the judge scorning to set up any technical claim
to it as his exclusive property; then he stared at Mahaffy, while
Mahaffy, dark-visaged and forbidding, stared back at him.

The judge sighed deeply. He took up the jug and inverted it. A stray
drop or so fell languidly into his glass.

"Try squeezing it, Price," said Mahaffy.

The judge shook the jug, it gave forth an empty sound, and he sighed
again; he attempted to peer into it, closing one watery eye as he tilted
it toward the light.

"I wonder no Yankee has ever thought to invent a jug with a glass
bottom," he observed.

"What for?" asked Mahaffy.

"You astonish me, Solomon," exclaimed the judge. "Coming as you do from
that section which invented the wooden nutmeg, and an eight-day clock
that has been known to run as much as four or five hours at a stretch. I
am aware the Yankees are an ingenious people; I wonder none of 'em ever
thought of a jug with a glass bottom, so that when a body holds it up
to the light he can see at a glance whether it is empty or not. Do you
reckon Pegloe has sufficient confidence to fill the jug again for us?"

But Mahaffy's expression indicated no great confidence in Mr. Pegloe's
confidence.

"Credit," began the judge, "is proverbially shy; still it may sometimes
be increased, like the muscles of the body and the mental faculties,
by judicious use. I've always regarded Pegloe as a cheap mind. I hope
I have done him an injustice." He put on his hat, and tucking the jug
under his arm, went from the house.

Ten or fifteen minutes elapsed. Mahaffy considered this a good sign,
it didn't take long to say no, he reflected. Another ten or fifteen
elapsed. Mahaffy lost heart. Then there came a hasty step beyond the
door, it was thrown violently open, and the judge precipitated himself
into the room. A glance showed Mahaffy that he was laboring under
intense excitement.

"Solomon, I bring shocking news. God knows what the next few hours may
reveal!" cried the judge, mopping his brow. "Miss Malroy has disappeared
from Belle Plain, and Hannibal has gone with her!"

"Where have they gone?" asked Mahaffy, and his long jaw dropped.

"Would to God I had an answer ready for that question, Solomon!"
answered the judge, with a melancholy shake of the head. He gazed down
on his friend with an air of large tolerance. "I am going to Belle
Plain, but you are too drunk. Sleep it off, Solomon, and join me when
your b