"I'll try it, Mr. Martin," he whispered.

It was some moments before the Justice noticed Van standing near his chair, and raised his eyes inquiringly. The clerk held out the folded piece of paper, but Blagden frowned and impatiently waved the official away. For a moment Van lingered, but when the Magistrate swung his chair so as to turn his back on the interruption, he rejoined Martin and handed him the rejected note, with a smile and a shrug.

Martin took it and sat down again with a distinct feeling of relief. He had done all he could. If there was anything wrong with the order he had tried his best to call it to the Judge's attention, and that pompous fool had rejected the opportunity. He might as well hand up the _Phelps_ vs. _Orson_ papers and go back to the office.

Martin pulled the small bundle out of his pocket and studied the indors.e.m.e.nt. _Phelps_ against _Orson_? Why, that must be the case d.i.c.k Phelps had talked about for half an hour at the Club the other night. Of course it was--Allison was his attorney. Well, that was rather odd.

Martin wrote "_submitted_" on the first paper in the bundle, and then glanced at the Bench. The green order was fourth from the top.

Why the devil did his heart keep thumping with excitement! He had done more than ninety-nine men out of a hundred would do. Anything more would be asinine interference for which he would have time to repent at leisure. He'd get right out of that stifling Court Room--

"_Phelps_ against _Orson_" called the Judge.

For a heart-beat Martin hesitated. Then he rose to his feet and walking directly to the Counsel's table slipped the rubber band from his bundle of papers and sat down.

As his opponent began to speak, Martin lazily read through his papers, making an occasional note on a loose sheet of legal cap. When he looked up again the green order was second from the top. Then he shoved his chair back and watched the Judge who, as the Counsel ceased speaking, took up another paper, leaving the green-covered order at the top of the pile.

Martin glanced at the clock and noted that recess would begin in twenty-five minutes. Then he sat quietly and waited till the Judge, surprised at the unusual pause, looked at him, and nodded.

"Proceed, Mr. Martin."

Martin gazed fixedly at the Bench and rose with great deliberation and dignity.

"If it please the Court," he began solemnly, "this is, on its face, a simple motion for a bill of particulars--part of that sparring for position which precedes every legal encounter. But at the outset I ask the closest possible attention from the Court, for before I have finished I expect to show that this apparently simple motion cloaks a matter of vital importance, not only to these litigants but to the public at large."

Judge Blagden leaned back in his chair and listened to the lawyer with grave attention. The attorney for the defendant stared at the speaker in blank astonishment.

It was, Martin continued impressively, a case in which a knowledge of all the facts was of supreme importance. To understand certain actions one must follow the wires that control them, underground or overhead, until the hand which clutches them be discovered. For this reason he would take the liberty of detailing to the Court the history of the litigation.

Martin then launched into a minute and deliberate recital of the facts.

He dwelt upon the private history of the plaintiff, traced his business career from its beginning up to the day of the transaction with the defendants, described the fruitless efforts of the parties to settle their differences out of Court, and the failure of the attorneys to come to any agreement.

At this point the defendant's attorney interrupted, claiming that none of these facts, however interesting they might be, was to be found in the papers, and that Counsel must be confined to what was therein stated.

Martin admitted that, ordinarily, this would be proper, but in this case he asked for "great lat.i.tude for grave reasons." Then, with marked emphasis, he recapitulated all the various points he had detailed and asked the Court to note their important bearing upon what he was about to disclose.

The opposing Counsel shifted uneasily in his chair and shook his head in utter bewilderment, and the Justice leaned forward on his desk.

Then Martin picked up the bill of complaint and began to read it with great deliberation. That seemed to break the spell.

"Mr. Martin, I must ask you to come to your point, please," interrupted the Justice.

"I am coming to it now, Sir."

He again took up the complaint and once more began to read it aloud.

Judge Blagden revolved his chair restlessly from side to side and again interrupted--this time impatiently.

"You have already occupied almost twenty minutes, Mr. Martin. This is not, you know, the Court of Appeals."

"Where your Honour's decision can be reviewed if incorrect? I am aware of that, Sir."

The Magistrate looked sharply at the speaker, who regarded him with a calm, cold glance.

"The Court cannot allow you to consume much more time, Sir. The decision of this motion is largely a matter of discretion----"

"Which your Honour will remember is the better part of valour."

Judge Blagden frowned angrily at the speaker and picked up the green-covered order.

The Court Room was hushed to almost breathless stillness.

"Go on with your argument, Mr. Martin, but be brief." The words came from behind the paper in the Judge's hand.

Martin instantly sat down.

The Judge stopped reading and peered over the desk.

"Well," he queried, "have you finished?"

"No, Sir, I have not," answered Martin positively.

"Then proceed, Sir."

"When the Court honours me with the courtesy of its attention I will proceed--but not until then."

The answer was a challenge, sharp and decisive.

"I am listening, Sir," retorted Blagden, in a tone of marked annoyance, "and I have been listening much longer than should be necessary. Get to your point at once."

"If the Court is willing to undertake a divided duty," Martin paused until the Judge's eyes met his--"I am unwilling to receive a divided attention."

"The Court has no inclination to hear further suggestions from Counsel on this point."

The Judge took up his pen, dipped it in the ink, and turned to the last page of the green-covered order.

Behind him Martin could hear the cub-reporter tiptoeing to the door.

"Then if the Court will not give me a hearing I demand that it read my brief!"

Martin thundered out the words so fiercely that the audience started perceptibly and the Judge looked up in angry astonishment.

"Sit down, Mr. Martin," he ordered sternly.

"I hand you my brief, Sir," answered Martin, holding out a folded sheet of legal cap, "and request its immediate consideration."

"You may hand it to the clerk, Sir; it will be considered at the proper time."

"I request the Court to read it now."