Mr. Harrison!"

"Perhaps they are in the parlor?"

"Step in, sir," coolly returned Matthew. The man went through the door
into the sitting-room, but came back immediately.

"Not there?" said Matthew. The man shook his head. "I don't think
you'll find them about here," added the bar-keeper.

Mr. Harrison--this was the name by which Matthew addressed him--stood
musing and irresolute for some minutes. He could not be mistaken about
the entrance of his sons, and yet they were not there. His manner was
much perplexed. At length he took a seat, in a far corner of the
bar-room, somewhat beyond the line of observation, evidently with the
purpose of waiting to see if those he sought would come in. He had not
been there long, before two young men entered, whose appearance at once
excited his interest. They went up to the bar and called for liquor. As
Matthew set the decanter before them, he leaned over the counter, and
said something in a whisper.

"Where?" was instantly ejaculated, in surprise, and both of the young
men glanced uneasily about the room. They met the eyes of Mr. Harrison,
fixed intently upon them. I do not think, from the way they swallowed
their brandy and water, that it was enjoyed very much.

"What the deuce is he doing here?" I heard one of them say, in a low
voice.

"After the boys, of course."

"Have they come yet?"

Matthew winked as he answered, "All safe."

"In No. 4?"

"Yes. And the wine and cigars all waiting for you."

"Good."

"You'd better not go through the parlor. Their old man's not at all
satisfied. He half suspects they're in the house. Better go off down
the street, and come back and enter through the passage."

The young men, acting on this hint, at once retired, the eyes of
Harrison following them out.

For nearly an hour Mr. Harrison kept his position, a close observer of
all that transpired. I am very much in error, if, before leaving that
sink of iniquity, he was not fully satisfied as to the propriety of
legislating on the liquor question. Nay, I incline to the opinion,
that, if the power of suppression had rested in his hands, there would
not have been, in the whole state, at the expiration of an hour, a
single dram-selling establishment. The goring of his ox had opened his
eyes to the true merits of the question. While he was yet in the
bar-room, young Hammond made his appearance. His look was wild and
excited. First he called for brandy, and drank with the eagerness