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
duelist'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 circumstance 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