"I don't remember," said the Judge, winking at Howard by mistake and then frowning to undeceive him.
"Yes, I think it was."
"Seventy-nine," said the preacher, at a venture.
"Then I couldn't have seen old Bill in seventy-eight. But I saw him today—and he looks like a grizzly bear. And he didn't seem to be in very good circumstances. But the last time I saw him before that—"
"In seventy-nine," interrupted the Judge.
"Well, I'm not so sure about that, John. Let me see. I was in St. Paul and went from there directly to St. Louis. Yes. Now, I haven't been in St. Paul but once since seventy-eight and that was year before last. Went directly to St. Louis. It must have been seventy-eight, John. Yes, it was."
"Well, go ahead with your story," said the Judge.
"Oh, it's no story. I was simply telling you when I met old Bill the last time."
"And is that all there is to it?"
"All! Isn't it enough? I didn't start to tell a story and you know it well enough. Look here, Howard," he added, turning upon the young lawyer, "are you fixing to jump on me, too?"