He paused and looked at Kornicker, who not knowing exactly under what head to class the individuals who had passed the afternoon there, remained perfectly silent. 'It was not right.' said Rust. 'It was not right; but no matter for that now. I have work on hand which must be attended to at once. Bring your chair to the table.' Kornicker in compliance with this request, and not a little mollified by Rust's change of manner, dragged his chair to the place designated, swung it to its feet, sat himself down on it, and leaning his elbow on the table and his cheek on his hand, waited for the other to open his communication. Taking a large pocket-book from his pocket, Rust ran his eye over a number of papers which were folded up in it, and finally selected two, which he placed on the table in front of him. 'There they are, at last. Those are the ones;' said he, pushing them toward Kornicker. The clerk took them up one after the other, holding an end in each hand, and carefully viewed them from side to side; after which he replaced them on the table, and observed, partly by way of remark and partly in soliloquy: 'Two promissory notes; Enoch Grosket maker; in favor of Ezra Ikes, for fifteen hundred dollars each; due six months ago.' 'And indorsed by Ikes, to Michael Rust;' continued Rust, taking up the phrase where Kornicker had left off. 'Indorsed to Michael Rust; that's me!' said Rust, looking eagerly in his eyes, and pressing his thin finger on his own breast: 'me--me--me!' 'If you tell me that by way of news, you're late in the day, man;' replied the other. 'I know that Michael Rust is you, and that you are Michael Rust; I think I ought to.' And for the first time in the course of that evening, Kornicker closed his eyes, and shook inwardly; thereby indicating that he was enjoying a hearty laugh. 'You will take these notes,' said Rust, without paying any regard either to his merriment or his observation, 'and sue on them at once; arrest Grosket, fling him into prison, and there let him lie and rot, until his stubborn heart be broken; until he crawl to my very feet and lick the dust from them. Ho! ho! would that he were there now, that I might spurn him! If he will not bend, why then,' muttered he, setting his teeth, and his black eye dilating, 'let him _die;_ his blood be upon his own head. The fool! the vain, weak, short-sighted fool! He knew not that I had these in my grasp,' said he, taking up the notes and shaking them as if in menace at the object of his wrath. 'Now let him writhe in his den; and moan, and rave, and blaspheme to the walls that shut him in. There is no escape; no means of borrowing three thousand dollars. No, no; the jail is his home; the felon his room-mate; ho! ho! What a glorious thing law is! Now then, Enoch, _friend_ Enoch! _conscientious_ Enoch! we'll see in whose hand the game lies!'