His place was taken by Mr.Pegloe, and on the heels of the tavern-keeper came Mr.Bowen.Judge Price received them with condescension, but back of the condescension was an air of reserve that did not invite questions.

The judge discussed the extension of the national roads with Mr.Pegloe, and the religion of the Persian fire-worshipers with Mr.Bowen; he permitted never a pause and they retired as the sheriff had done without sight of the letter.
The judge's office became a perfect Mecca for the idle and the curious, and while he overflowed with high-bred courtesy he had never seemed so unapproachable--never so remote from matters of local and contemporary interest.
"Why don't you show 'em the letter ?" demanded Mr.Mahaffy, when they were alone.

"Can't you see they are suffering for a sight of it ?" "All in good time, Solomon." He became thoughtful.

"Solomon, I am thinking of offering a reward for any information that will lead to the discovery of my anonymous correspondent," he at length observed with a finely casual air, as if the idea had just occurred to him, and had not been seething in his brain all day.
"There you go, Price--" began Mahaffy.
"Solomon, this is no time for me to hang back.

I shall offer a reward of five thousand dollars for this information." The judge's tone was resolute.