The judge's eyes, rather startled, slid around in their sockets.
Clearly something was wrong--but what--what?

"Ain't he bold?" it was a woman's voice this time, and the fat
landlady, her curls awry and her plump breast heaving
tumultuously, gained a place in the forefront of the crowd.

"Dear madam, this is an unexpected pleasure!" said the judge,
with his hand upon his heart.

"Don't you make your wicked old sheep's eyes at me, you brazen
thing!" cried the lady.

"You're wanted," said the sheriff grimly, still keeping his hand
on the judge's shoulder.

"For what?" demanded the judge thickly. The sheriff had no time
in which to answer.

"I want my money!" shrieked the landlady.

"Your money--Mrs. Walker, you amaze me!" The judge drew himself
up haughtily, in genuine astonishment.

"I want my money!" repeated Mrs. Walker in even more piercing
tones.

"I am not aware that I owe you anything, madam. Thank God, I
hold your receipted bill of recent date," answered the judge with