he had been useful to Mace. Most of the time, however, he hung around the
village tavern. He looked now to Frank as if he had just come from that
favorite resort of his. There was an unsteady gravity in the way that he
poked an impressive finger at Frank as he spoke to the youth.

"What do you want?" demanded Frank, ungraciously enough, as he half guessed
the mission of this bloated and untidy emissary of the law.

"Judicial, see?" observed Roseberry, gravely balancing against the picket
fence.

"Go ahead," challenged Frank, keeping out of radius of the judge's breath.

"Come, come, young man," maundered Roseberry. "I'm too old a bird to have
to circumlocate. You know your father has great confidence in me."

"I never heard of it before," retorted Frank.

"Oh, yes," insisted Roseberry with bland unction. "Had a case of his once."

"The only case I ever knew of," returned Frank, "was a collection he gave
you to make. I heard him tell my mother that he never saw the creditor or
the money, either, since."

"Ah--er--difficult case; yes, yes, decidedly complex, costs and
commissions," stammered the judge, becoming more turkey-red than he
naturally was. "We won't retrospect. To the case in hand."

"Well?" spoke Frank, looking so open-faced and steadily at Roseberry that
the latter blinked.