Judge Gaylor accepted the slip of paper gingerly, and in turn moved his fine head pompously toward each of the young men. Most of them were known to him, but for the moment he preferred to appear too deeply concerned to greet them. With an expression of shocked indignation, he recognized only Walsh. “Yes, I have seen it,” he said, “and there is not a word of truth in it! Mr. Walsh, I am surprised! You, of all people!” “We got it on very good authority,” said the reporter. “But why not call me up and get the facts?” demanded the Judge. “I was here until twelve o’clock, and--” “Here!” interrupted Irving. “Then he did have a collapse?” Judge Gaylor swung upon his heel. “Certainly not,” he retorted angrily. “I was here on business, and I have never known his mind more capable, more alert.” He lifted his hands with an enthusiastic gesture. “I wish you could have seen him!” “Well,” urged Irving, “how about our seeing him now?” For a moment Judge Gaylor permitted his annoyance to appear, but he at once recovered and, murmuring cheerfully, “Certainly, certainly; I’ll try to arrange it,” turned to the butler who had re-entered the room. “Garett,” he inquired, “is Mr. Hallowell awake yet?” As he asked the question his eyebrows rose; with an almost imperceptible shake of the head he signaled for an answer in the negative. “Well, there you are!” the Judge exclaimed heartily. “I can’t wake him, even to oblige you. In a word, gentlemen, Stephen Hallowell has never been in better health, mentally and bodily. You can say that from me--and that’s all there is to say.” “Then, we can say,” persisted Irving, “that you say, that Walsh’s story is a fake?” “You can say it is not true,” corrected Gaylor. “That’s all, gentlemen.” The audience was at an end. The young men moved toward the hall and Judge Gaylor turned to the bedroom. As he did so, he found that the new man on the Republic still held his ground. “Could I have a word with you, sir?” the stranger asked. The reporters halted jealously. Again Gaylor showed his impatience. “About Mr. Hallowell’s health?” he demanded. “There’s nothing more to say.” “No, it’s not about his health,” ventured the reporter. “Well, not now. I am very late this morning.” The Judge again moved to the bedroom and the reporter, as though accepting the verdict, started to follow the others. As he did so, as though in explanation or as a warning he added: “You said to always come to you for the facts.” The lawyer halted, hesitated. “What facts do you want?” he asked. The reporter bowed, and waved his broad felt hat toward the listening men. In polite embarrassment he explained what he had to say could not be spoken in their presence. Something in the manner of the stranger led Judge Gaylor to pause. He directed Garrett to accompany the reporters from the room. Then, with mock politeness, he turned to the one who remained. “I take it, you are a new comer in New York journalism. What is your name?” he asked.