It was very evident, to Townsend, eventually, that Rowan did not know any thing of the new arrival until he came down to supper. The Vanderlyns had taken their places at the table, very nearly opposite the lawyer, and returned with a nod of pleasant recognition the bow which he felt compelled to give them under the circumstances. Halstead Rowan, as he came in, took a seat on the same side of the table with the new-comers, and it was only as he gave the customary glance down after he had seated himself, that he seemed to recognize the sudden addition to the social circle. When he did recognize it, the lawyer (that man seems to be eternally watching the other, does he not?) caught one instant's blank surprise on his face, and he even put up his hand to rub his eyes, as if he fancied himself dreaming; but the surprise seemed to fade in a moment, and he pursued his supper with that fine appetite which is usually vouchsafed to such physical men. He left the table before the Vanderlyns had finished, and apparently without their having observed him. Townsend rose immediately and followed him, with a smile upon his face of which he was himself unconscious. He saw the Illinoisan go into the office and do precisely what he [the lawyer] would have laid a heavy stake that he would do--step to the counter and look over the list of "Horses for Mount Washington." Then a queer expression, nearer to malicious pleasure than any thing the other had before seen upon his face, flitted over it as he recognized the names. It might have been merely satisfaction--it might have been defiance blended with it in equal proportions; but at least it seemed to be capable of translation into words like these, which the very lips moved as if they would utter: "So, Baltimore people, you are running yourselves into my way again, after I had gone off and left you alone, like a good fellow! You had better be poorer and less proud, or I richer; or you had better keep the distance which I put between us!" A few moments after he approached Townsend with a laugh of deprecation and invited him to another game of ten-pins, which seemed to be quite as necessary to him when in a good humor as when in a rage. The invitation was accepted, and the important contest began once more. It would have been a very unequal one, for Rowan had fully recovered the use of his right hand, but that the alleys themselves had something to say in the matter. Worse apologies for alleys than those of the Crawford no man ever saw; and such a thing as a "ten-strike" had never been recorded on the black-boards, as made on those long lines of uneven and floor-laid planks. Both the combatants had quite enough to do in getting down a "frame" with three balls; and for some time not a word outside of the game escaped either.