signals.  I am aware that my voice is singularly deficient in producing either the dulcet tones of my fair client or the impassioned vehemence of the defendant’s response.  I will,” continued the Colonel, with a fatigued but blind fatuity that ignored the hurriedly knit brows and warning eyes of the Judge, “try again.  The note uttered by my client” (lowering his voice to the faintest of falsettos) “was ‘Keeree;’ the response was ‘Keerow-ow.’” And the Colonel’s voice fairly shook the dome above him.

Another uproar of laughter followed this apparently audacious repetition, but was interrupted by an unlooked-for incident.  The defendant rose abruptly, and tearing himself away from the withholding hand and pleading protestations of his counsel, absolutely fled from the court-room, his appearance outside being recognized by a prolonged “Keerow” from the bystanders, which again and again followed him in the distance.

In the momentary silence which followed, the Colonel’s voice was heard saying, “We rest here, your Honor,” and he sat down.  No less white, but more agitated, was the face of the defendant’s counsel, who instantly rose.

“For some unexplained reason, your Honor, my client desires to suspend further proceedings, with a view to effect a peaceable compromise with the plaintiff.  As he is a man of wealth and position, he is able and willing to pay liberally for that privilege.  While I, as his counsel, am still convinced of his legal irresponsibility, as he has chosen publicly to abandon his rights here, I can only ask your Honor’s permission to suspend further proceedings until I can confer with Colonel Starbottle.”

“As far as I can follow the pleadings,” said the Judge gravely, “the case seems to be hardly one for litigation, and I approve of the defendant’s course, while I strongly urge the plaintiff to accept it.”

Colonel Starbottle bent over his fair client.  Presently he rose, unchanged in look or demeanor.  “I yield, your Honor, to the wishes of my client, and—­er—­lady.  We accept.”

Before the court adjourned that day it was known throughout the town that Adoniram K. Hotchkiss had compromised the suit for four thousand dollars and costs.

Colonel Starbottle had so far recovered his equanimity as to strut jauntily towards his office, where he was to meet his fair client.  He was surprised, however, to find her already there, and in company with a somewhat sheepish-looking young man—­a stranger.  If the Colonel had any disappointment in meeting a third party to the interview, his old-fashioned courtesy did not permit him to show it.  He bowed graciously, and politely motioned them each to a seat.