So it happened that when Miss Stiles and Mr. Mecutchen came back to the
court-room they found it closed, and neither Mrs. Stiles nor Mrs.
Tarbell anywhere to be seen.

The next morning, at ten o'clock, Mrs. Tarbell was wondering what had
become of the Stileses. She had missed Mrs. Stiles the day before, after
the sudden adjournment of the court, but she had been detained by Pegley
and friends, and thought it not unnatural that her client should have
decided not to wait for her. She was rather glad the accident had
happened,--that is, she was not sorry on her own account,--for the
delay had given her time to prepare one or two witticisms in answer to
Mr. Pope. She greeted Mr. Pope with a pleasant smile as he came into
court, but Mr. Pope seemed rather surprised to find her in such a serene
frame of mind.

"I assure you, my dear madam," said he, coming up to her instantly, and
speaking in his most earnest tones, "I assure you that I had nothing to
do with it whatever. I had no idea that anything of the sort was going
on; I knew absolutely nothing of it until they sent word to me from the
railway-office in the afternoon, and I really most sincerely regret that
I am forced to take advantage of my client's--and your client's--improper
action."

"What--what do you mean?" said Mrs. Tarbell, very much perplexed.

"What? Haven't you heard?" cried Mr. Pope.

"Heard? What should I hear?"

From the depths of his green bag Mr. Pope extracted a stiff pasteboard
envelope, bursting with papers and confined by an india-rubber band.
From this envelope he drew out a folded document, which he handed to
Mrs. Tarbell; and when Mrs. Tarbell clapped eyes on the document's
contents her face wore an expression before which Pope ought to have
blushed for shame. The document was a release, given by Mrs. Stiles to
the railway company,--a printed form, with blanks to be filled in as the
individual case should demand; a devilish engine of cozen and covin,
constructed in cold blood by the railway company, and supplied to them
(as a small line of print at the bottom of the paper showed) by
Detweiler, the Blank-Book Mfr., Irving Ave. and Prime St. Mrs. Stiles
had sold herself. For one hundred and twenty-five dollars she had
released to the railway company all the claims she might have, or could
have, upon it at any time, past, present, or future, on account of her
accident. There was Mrs. Stiles's hand, there was her seal; the date was
yesterday.