nstinctively knew she had told him all; his professional judgment told
him that a more hopeless case had never come to his knowledge. Yet he
was not daunted, only embarrassed. "No matter," he said. "Of course I
shall have to consult with you again."

Her eyes again answered that she expected he would, and she added
simply, "When?"

"In the course of a day or two;" he replied quickly. "I will send you
word."

She turned to go. In his eagerness to open the door for her, he upset
his chair, and with some confusion, that was actually youthful, he
almost impeded her movements in the hall, and knocked his broad-brimmed
Panama hat from his bowing hand in a final gallant sweep. Yet as her
small, trim, youthful figure, with its simple Leghorn straw hat confined
by a blue bow under her round chin, passed away before him, she looked
more like a child than ever.

The Colonel spent that afternoon in making diplomatic inquiries. He
found his youthful client was the daughter of a widow who had a small
ranch on the cross-roads, near the new Free-Will Baptist Church--the
evident theatre of this pastoral. They led a secluded life, the
girl being little known in the town, and her beauty and fascination
apparently not yet being a recognized fact. The Colonel felt a
pleasurable relief at this, and a general satisfaction he could not
account for. His few inquiries concerning Mr. Hotchkiss only confirmed
his own impressions of the alleged lover,--a serious-minded, practically
abstracted man, abstentive of youthful society, and the last man
apparently capable of levity of the affections or serious flirtation.
The Colonel was mystified, but determined of purpose, whatever that
purpose might have been.

The next day he was at his office at the same hour. He was alone--as
usual--the Colonel's office being really 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 doorplate, 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
th