to rest chiefly on having left behind a multitude of busts. Besides, he was
impatient; the Judge's peroration having lifted his head so suddenly
that cigar ashes fell upon the deep rug at his feet.

"You won't go again, Judge?" He leaned forward perplexed.

"It's no use."

"Well, mebbe you can't do anything--mebbe Dan'l Webster couldn't--but
John Dale can!"

Long arose, astonished. "How foolish! Reason for a moment--any
presentation of this matter calls for the highest ability; it involves
sifting of evidence; symmetry of arrangement; cohesiveness of method, logic
of argument, persuasiveness of advocacy, subtleties of acumen, charms
of eloquence--all the elements of the greatest profession among men!"

Dale leaned heavily against the table, his eyes following the Judge as he
walked back and forth.

"Well, I've got 'em--I can't call 'em by name, but I've got the whole
damned list--and I'm goin'!"

Long stood at bay, his hand on the door, his face glowing with animation.

"Dale, you're old enough to be my father, but you shall listen. You'd
fail before a justice of the peace, and before the President of the United
States--it's absurd. You'd go down there, get mad, probably be arrested
and kill any hope we might have; why, you're guilty of contempt of
court right now. I had a strong influence, yet I failed."