ints
unerringly to the blowing-in of this fund, the impending happy event in
the life of our treasurer, Brother Brassfield, together with the public
honors already and about to be conferred on him, render it fitting that
this banquet be in his honor. What the devil is that racket? Oh, the
boy----! Let the wandering caitiff enter! What says the recreant
invader of our Mystic Circle?"

"He said he'd hev' me 'rested 'f I came there any more, an' the whole
bunch pulled," said the boy. "An' he chucked the paper out o' the
winder."

"Let another scroll be prepared," roared Simpson, "and go back to him
as per schedule."

"But," said the boy, "he said----"

"We hold the police force in the hollow of our hands!" shouted Simpson.
"We will protect you."

"I should say we would!" "You trust us!" "To the death!" chorused the
roisterers.

"I'll collect damages from him for your death!" said Judge Blodgett.
"Whom do you want 'em paid to?"

"D'vide the boodle," said the boy, "among my grandchildren--ekally. Do
I go back?"

"You do," said Simpson, "as soon as another Exhibit A is prepared."

"It's ready, most noble Potentate," said Edgington ritualistically.

"Then let the messenger depart. Where's that menu I had? Hang it,
you've used it for the kid, and it had my remarks on it. As I was
saying, this is Brassfield's night. Everybody tells a story, sings a
song or dances."

Edgington told a story which, he said, was "on Brassfield," and showed
what regular devil that gentleman had been. It seemed that he and
"Brass" were at one time fly-fishing in the mountains, and Eugene had
so wrought on the fancy of the schoolmistress that she had let school
out at three, and gone to learn casting of Brassfield.

"And when they came to the house at suppertime," he went on, "the whole
family were laying for them. 'Ketch anything?' said the old lady,
'anythin' more'n a bullhead?' 'I c'n see,' said the hired man, 'that
she's been castin' purty hard, by the way her dress is kinder pressed
around the waist. It allers fixes mine that way!'"

And so on, to the narration of the outbreak of hostilities with the
hired man, and the flight of Brassfield and Edgington. At every point
Amidon winced, as he got views of Brassfield's character which
hypnotism could not yield, and the assembly roared the louder at his
embarrassment.

The messenger boy returned again by this time, still unsuccessful, and
was provided with a bunch o