Z was the eldest of the three, and in some respects the most remarkable in appearance. He was well proportioned, except that his head seemed large for his body. His face was perfectly colorless, and his thin hair was white and long and disorderly. A fringe of snowy beard encircled his throat like a scarf, but his lips and cheeks were clean-shaved. The dead waxen whiteness of his face was thrown into startling relief by his great black eyes, in which there was a depth and a fire when he was roused that contrasted strongly with his aged appearance. His dress was simple in the extreme, and of the darkest colors.
The three sat in their easy-chairs round the coal fire. It was high noon in London, and the weather was moderately fine; that is to say, it was possible to read in the room without lighting the gas. X held a telegram in his hand.
“This is a perfectly clear case against us,” he remarked in a quiet, business-like manner.
“It has occurred at such an unfortunate time,” said Y, who spoke very slowly and distinctly, with an English accent.
“We shall do it yet,” said Z, confidently.
“Gentlemen,” said the president, “it will not do to hesitate. There is an individual in this case who will not let the grass grow under his feet. His name is Mr. Patrick Ballymolloy. We all know about him, I expect?”
“I know him very well indeed,” said old Z. “It was I who put him in the book.” He rose quickly and took a large volume from a shelf near by. It was a sort of ledger, with the letters of the alphabet printed on the cut edges of the leaves.
“I don’t believe Y knows him,” said the president. “Please read him to us.” Z turned over the leaves quickly.
“B–Bally–Ballymolloy-Patrick–Yes,” he said, finding the place. “Patrick Ballymolloy. Irish iron man. Boston, Mass. Drinks. Takes money from both sides. Voted generally Democratic ticket. P.S. 1882, opposed B. in election for Governor. Iron interest increased. P.S. 1883, owns twenty votes in House. Costs more than he did. That is all,” said Z, shutting up the book.
“Quite enough,” said the president. “Mr. Patrick Ballymolloy and his twenty votes will bother us. What a pity J.H. made that speech!”