er, which was hot, and resigned himself to waiting, which was
wearisome.

The Court Room was stuffy as usual, and crowded as always. Martin
languidly studied the lawyers about him, trying to guess the kind of
business each represented. Here he prophesied a struggle for "costs,"
and there a contest for "time." In one face he read the cunning of the
technical trickster, in another the earnest belief in a Cause, and idly
took to betting with himself on his prognostications.

The low droning of voices had a soothing note, and the hot atmosphere of
the room soon set him nodding. A moment more and he was out of the
Court, far away from the lawyers--at the east end of Long Island, with
the strength and vigour of early Autumn in the air. For some seconds he
was dimly conscious of a man standing near him asking an oft-repeated
question. Then he woke with a start and saw Allison.

"Do you always sleep with your eyes open?"

"Ye--yes," he yawned, rubbing the optics in question, "it's a trick I
learned from a front seat and a dull lecturer at college."

"Well, what are you doing here beside dreaming?"

"Waiting to get some papers from Van."

"Why don't you get them then, and go home to sleep?"

"Van's off his trolley to-day. Got to wait."

"Um.--'Furioso' on the Bench?"

"No.--Hot weather, I guess."

"Ah. Who's on deck then?"

"I don't know, and Van couldn't, or wouldn't, tell."

"Well, I was about to ask you to take charge of a little matter for me,
but I'm afraid I oughtn't to keep you out of bed."

"What's it about?"

"Nothing but opposing an application for a bill of particulars. I don't
care very much whether I win or lose. Merely contest it as a matter of
form. You can submit it without argument, if you'd rather, but I've
another case in Part IV., and can't wait here. Will you do it, you
dormouse?"

"Yes--provided you won't damn me if you lose."

"Don't care a cuss."

"All right."

"Thank you. Good-bye."

Martin glanced lazily at the papers Allison tossed into his lap.
_Phelps_ vs. _Orson_? What number was it on the calendar? He pulled the
_Law Journal_ out of his pocket and consulted the list of "motions."
Twenty-second case? Good lord--Allison had buncoed him! If he argued
that motion he'd have to stay in the stuffy Court Room all morning. But
he wouldn't argue it--he'd give the papers to Van, and let him hand them
up to the Court when the case was called. Martin stuffed the documents
into his poc