est
blew his nose with great violence, and for a space of minutes
industriously mopped at his indignant eyes with an enormous pocket
handkerchief.

* * * * *

In accordance with a rule, Jeff Poindexter waited up for his employer.
Jeff expected him by nine-thirty at the latest; but it was actually
getting along toward ten-thirty before Jeff, who had been dozing lightly
in the dim-lit hall, oblivious to the fanged attentions of some large
mosquitoes, roused suddenly as he heard the sound of a rambling but
familiar step clunking along the wooden sidewalk of Clay Street. The
latch on the front gate clicked, and as Jeff poked his nose out of the
front door he heard, down the aisle of trees that bordered the gravel
walk, the voice of his master uplifted in solitary song.

In the matter of song the judge had a peculiarity. It made no difference
what the words might be or the theme--he sang every song and all songs
to a fine, high, tuneless little tune of his own. At this moment Judge
Priest, as Jeff gathered, was showing a wide range of selection. One
second he was announcing that his name it was Joe Bowers and he was all
the way from Pike, and the next he was stating, for the benefit of all
who might care to hear these details, that they--presumably certain
horses--were bound to run all night--bound to run all day; so you could
bet on the bobtailed nag and he'd bet on the bay. Nearer to the porch
steps it boastingly transpired that somebody had jumped aboard the
telegraf and steered her by the triggers, whereat the lightnin' flew and
'lectrified and killed ten thousand niggers! But even so general a
catastrophe could not weigh down the singer's spirits. As he put a
fumbling foot upon the lowermost step of the porch, he threw his head
far back and shrilly issued the following blanket invitation to ladies
resident in a far-away district:

_Oh, Bowery gals, won't you come out tonight?
Won't you come out tonight?
Oh, Bowery gals, won't you come out tonight,
And dance by the light of the moon?
I danced with a gal with a hole in her stockin';
And her heel it kep' a-rockin'--kep' a-rockin'!
She was the purtiest gal in the room!_

Jeff pulled the front door wide open. The song stopped and Judge Priest
stood in the opening, teetering a little on his heels. His face was all
a blushing pinky glow.

"Evenin', jedge!" greeted Jeff. "You're late, suh!"

"Jeff," said Judg