judge, with his spectacles on and a pile of books in front of him,
threatened the informer with the penitentiary. The whole bar of
Mariposa was with Mr. Smith. But by sheer iteration the informations
had proved successful. Judge Pepperleigh learned that Mr. Smith had
subscribed a hundred dollars for the Liberal party and at once fined
him for keeping open after hours. That made one conviction. On the
top of this had come the untoward incident just mentioned and that
made two. Beyond that was the deluge. This then was the exact
situation when Billy, the desk clerk, entered the back bar with the
telegram in his hand.

"Here's your wire, sir," he said.

"What does it say?" said Mr. Smith.

He always dealt with written documents with a fine air of detachment.
I don't suppose there were ten people in Mariposa who knew that Mr.
Smith couldn't read.

Billy opened the message and read, "Commissioners give you three
months to close down."

"Let me read it," said Mr. Smith, "that's right, three months to
close down."

There was dead silence when the message was read. Everybody waited
for Mr. Smith to speak. Mr. Gingham instinctively assumed the
professional air of hopeless melancholy.

As it was afterwards recorded, Mr. Smith stood and "studied" with the