ve been.

The next day he was at his office at the same hour. He was alone--as
usual--the Colonel's office really being his private lodgings,
disposed in connecting rooms, a single apartment reserved for
consultation. He had no clerk; his papers and briefs being taken by
his faithful body-servant and ex-slave "Jim" to another firm who did
his office-work since the death of Major Stryker--the Colonel's only
law partner, who fell in a duel some years previous. With a fine
constancy the Colonel still retained his partner's name on his
door-plate--and, it was alleged by the superstitious, kept a certain
invincibility also through the _manes_ of that lamented and somewhat
feared man.

The Colonel consulted his watch, whose heavy gold case still showed
the marks of a providential interference with a bullet destined for
its owner, and replaced it with some difficulty and shortness of
breath in his fob. At the same moment he heard a step in the passage,
and the door opened to Adoniram K. Hotchkiss. The Colonel was
impressed; he had a duellist's respect for punctuality.

The man entered with a nod and the expectant, inquiring look of a busy
man. As his feet crossed that sacred threshold the Colonel became all
courtesy; he placed a chair for his visitor, and took his hat from his
half-reluctant hand. He then opened a cupboard and brought out a
bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

"A--er--slight refreshment, Mr. Hotchkiss," he suggested, politely. "I
never drink," replied Hotchkiss, with the severe attitude of a total
abstainer. "Ah--er--not the finest bourbon whiskey, selected by a
Kentucky friend? No? Pardon me! A cigar, then--the mildest Havana."

"I do not use tobacco nor alcohol in any form," repeated Hotchkiss,
ascetically. "I have no foolish weaknesses."

The Colonel's moist, beady eyes swept silently over his client's
sallow face. He leaned back comfortably in his chair, and half
closing his eyes as in dreamy reminiscence, said, slowly: "Your
reply, Mr. Hotchkiss, reminds me of--er--sing'lar circumstances that
--er--occurred, in point of fact--at the St. Charles Hotel, New
Orleans. Pinkey Hornblower--personal friend--invited Senator
Doolittle to join him in social glass. Received, sing'larly enough,
reply similar to yours. 'Don't drink nor smoke?' said Pinkey. 'Gad,
sir, you must be mighty sweet on the ladies.' Ha!" The Colonel paused
long enough to allow the faint flush to pass from Hotchkiss's cheek,
and went on,