d, or mash you, Jim,"
offered the backwoodsman. "Fetch out the jug, Sanders, it's my treat.
Come up to the counter, neighbors, 'less you mean to insult me. Here,
use this dipper, Jim. All must drink--yes, you too, Solly." These
last words were addressed to a ghost-like man with a long white beard
and insane eyes, who had glided into the store. He was recognized by
all present under the name of "Solly," an abbreviation of Solitarius.
The demented fanatic sadly shook his head.

"Peace be with you all. Amen!"

"Amen, Solly; how's the Halcyon Itinerary?" asked Hadley, in playful
irony. "Where's your revelations?"

"Awake from your dreams." This monition, uttered in a slow, solemn
tone, was received by the loafers good-naturedly, being advice they
had often heard from the same lips.

"This whiskey'll wake 'em up, Solly, if anything this side of liquid
fire can. Here's a tinful for you."

The crazy prophet waved the offering away, raised his palms in silent
benediction, and glided out as noiselessly as he had entered.

"Badly cracked," said the grocery-keeper.

"Religion done it," exclaimed Old Jim, between swallows.

The drinks having been paid for, the entire company, led by the
backwoodsman, left the store and hurried to the court-house.

XXII. NOT A TRUE BILL.

The oft-deferred and eagerly expected hour came, in which the charges
brought against Aaron Burr by the United States District Attorney of
Kentucky were to be investigated before a Grand Jury, Judge Hary Innes
presiding. The court-room was crammed from wall to wall with a crowd
of men impatiently awaiting the first move in the anticipated war of
words between two famous lawyers, who were known to be not only
political antagonists, but also personal enemies. The cause of the
impending battle was worthy of the contestants. On the result of that
day's testimony and debate hung the fortunes of the conspirator and
his federaries. This Burr realized, though few of his devoted
adherents in that crowded room had suspicion that the charges against
him were true. In the minds of most of them he figured as a martyr, a
patriotic citizen maligned and traduced. There were many in that
assemblage who, had they believed his designs traitorous, would have
greeted him not with applause, but with a volley of rotten eggs.

When Judge Innes stepped behind the high desk of justice, and took his
official seat, a buzz of expectation went round. The clerk of the
court