"There's that sneak Briggs now," he quickly whispered to his chum. "What are those fellows planning, do you s'pose?" There was a brief confabulation in the hallway without, and then back came Hulker,--no loitering now,--said a word or two to his fellows, and the four picked up their canes and overcoats and started for the door. The bar-boy went running after them. "I'll pay you to-morrow," Hulker major answered, impatiently; and Julian heard it. The boy was importunate, and glanced at the desk. The clerk came out from behind his barricade. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hulker, but the manager left strict orders that that account must be settled before you could be served again. You told the boy you would settle everything before you left, and to get those cigars. Now, I've got to take the money out of the till and pay for 'em if you don't." Angrily, and with ugly words, the elder Hulker turned on the clerk. "I haven't any money just now, I tell you. We've been at that fire all the morning. It's too late to get a check cashed. I'll bring you the money to-night, Billy, I'll swear to----" But the controversy was cut short by the sudden entrance of the manager himself. He was a man who prided himself on the "respectability" of his place. Order and decorum were things he insisted on. Even the mildest of sherry-cobblers, for which the bar was famous, was forbidden to the student or youth who showed the faintest symptom of over-stimulation. Case-hardened politicians and men about town avoided Martigny's, for the reason that they could never get enough there. Student trade was something he catered to only so long as it came through the well-bred and well-behaved of their number. The Hulker set he much disapproved of and had frequently cautioned, but money was an object, and for a time those young fellows had it and spent it in abundance. Of late there had come a change. Something had occurred to limit their supplies, and within a month they had run up bills at every neighboring bar or billiard-room where they could get credit, and now Martigny, after thrice presenting his account, had drawn the line. Quietly but firmly he told the elder that that bill must be settled then and there or it would be sent by a messenger to his mother at once. It was impossible for the players at the tables not to hear what was going on. There were sly winks and quizzical glances. Columbiads, old or young, fought shy of the Hulkers, but even they were unprepared for the scene that followed. "I haven't got a cent with me, Johnny," protested the elder, while the others crowded about in indignant chorus. "I swear I'll fetch it to you to-night, or in two hours, if you must have it."