"What was the price?"
"Three hundred dollars."
"Indeed!"
The judge had already arisen, and he and Green were now walking side by side across the bar-room floor.
"I want to speak a word with you," I heard Lyman say.
And then the two went out together. I saw no more of them during the evening.
Not long afterward, Willy Hammond came in. Ah! there was a sad change here; a change that in no way belied the words of Matthew the bar-keeper. He went up to the bar, and I heard him ask for Judge Lyman. The answer was in so low a voice that it did not reach my ear.
With a quick, nervous motion, Hammond threw his hand toward a row of decanters on the shelf behind the bar-keeper, who immediately set one of them containing brandy before him. From this he poured a tumbler half full, and drank it off at a single draught, unmixed with water.
He then asked some further question, which I could not hear, manifesting, as it appeared, considerable excitement of mind. In answering him, Matthew glanced his eyes upward, as if indicating some room in the house. The young man then retired, hurriedly, through the sitting-room.
"What's the matter with Willy Hammond tonight?" asked some one of the bar-keeper. "Who's he after in such a hurry?"