hurriedly-extemporized couches. In obedience to that odd law, that, the
more seedy and soiled a man's garments become, the less does he seem
inclined to part with them, even during that portion of the twenty-four
hours when they are deemed less essential, Plunkett's clothes had
gradually taken on the appearance of a kind of a bark, or an outgrowth
from within, for which their possessor was not entirely responsible.
Howbeit, as he entered the room, he attempted to button his coat over
a dirty shirt, and passed his fingers, after the manner of some animal,
over his cracker-strewn beard, in recognition of a cleanly public
sentiment. But, even as he did so, the weak smile faded from his
lips; and his hand, after fumbling aimlessly around a button, dropped
helplessly at his side. For as he leaned his back against the bar, and
faced the group, he, for the first time, became aware that every eye but
one was fixed upon him. His quick, nervous apprehension at once leaped
to the truth. His miserable secret was out, and abroad in the very air
about him. As a last resort, he glanced despairingly at Henry York; but
his flushed face was turned toward the windows.

No word was spoken. As the bar-keeper silently swung a decanter and
glass before him, he took a cracker from a dish, and mumbled it with
affected unconcern. He lingered over his liquor until its potency
stiffened his relaxed sinews, and dulled the nervous edge of his
apprehension, and then he suddenly faced around. "It don't look as if we
were goin' to hev any rain much afore Christmas," he said with defiant
ease.

No one made any reply.

"Just like this in '52, and again in '60. It's always been my opinion
that these dry seasons come reg'lar. I've said it afore. I say it again.