"In that dream something touched my hand and a voice whispered the word, 'Now.' Oh, how anxious it was! I awoke, sitting up; the lamp had gone out, yet it was not empty--and there was no wind." John Dale stumbled into the room, his arms full of wood, and an old dog, lying before the fireplace, thumped his tail against the floor with diminishing vigor. She arose. "I'll get you a bite to eat, Doctor." "Never mind! I must be going." He made a sign to Dale, who followed to the gate. "John, I've been calling here a long time--" "I know I ought to pay somethin'," Dale started to say. "It isn't that--I've just diagnosed the case; only one man can cure it." "Would he--on credit?" Dale anxiously inquired. "He never charges." Johnston smiled sorrowfully at the old man's despair. "Who is he?" "The President; the President of the United States," he added as Dale's eyes filled with questions. "I came out of college a sceptic, John, and I'd be an infidel outright but for that wife of yours--she's nearer the sky, somehow, than any other mortal I've seen. I don't believe in anything, of course--but that dream--if I were you I'd trust it--I'd follow where it led." With his foot on the hub, the farmer slowly whetted his knife on his boot. "I'll go with you, Doctor." * * * * * "I called at the office, but it was locked, and so I'm here," apologized Dale as Judge Long opened the door of his old-fashioned stone house in Point Elizabeth, the county seat. "Glad to see you--had your supper?" Hearing voices in the dining-room, he answered in the affirmative. "Then have a cigar and wait in the library; the folks are having a little company." The old man surveyed the room; the books alone were worth more than his earthly possessions. From a desk loomed a bust of Webster. Shadows seemed to leap from it; the sombre lips bespoke the futility of striving against stern realities. There was gayety in the dining-room; Judge Long was a fountain of mirth, a favorite at taverns, while riding the circuit--before juries--wherever people gathered. A gale of laughter greeted his last anecdote and the diners protested as he arose. Dale told his story excitedly, and at the conclusion Judge Long slowly brushed away the tobacco smoke. "I'm sorry, John, but we did all we could last month--and we failed; there's just one thing to do--face the matter. It's hard, but this world is chiefly water, and what isn't water is largely rock--it's for fish and fossils, I suppose." "But we will win now!" The old man's hand fell with decision. "Why do you say that?" "Mother had another dream last night." "But, you know, she had one a month ago," quietly protested Long. "Yes--and it came true--we didn't do our part just right. We can't fail this time; there must be a day of justice!"