"Oh, dear!" He wished he had walked to Jefferson and had a good mind to get out.

A few years ago, when Jefferson had become famous throughout the United States as the residence of two men, a stranger, who met Senator Wade, "old Ben," somewhere East, asked him what were the special advantages of Jefferson. "Political," was the dry response.

Those privileges were not apparent to Bart, as he looked over the little mud-beleaguered town of two or three hundred inhabitants, with its two taverns, Court House, two or three churches, and half a dozen stores and shops, and the high, narrow wooden sidewalks, mere foot bridges, rising high above the quaggy, tenacious mud, that would otherwise have forbidden all communication. The town was built on a low level plain, every part of which, to Bart's eye, seemed a foot or two lower and more depressed than every other.

In fact, his two days and two nights wallow in the mud, from Newbury to Jefferson, had a rather depressing effect on a mind a little below par when he started; and he was inclined to depressing views.

Bart was not one to be easily beaten, or stay beaten, unless when he abandoned the field; and the battle at Jefferson was to be fought out.

Lord! how far away were Newbury and all the events of three days ago.

There was one that was not inclined to vacate, but Bart was resolute.

It was dark, and he would shut his eyes and push straight forward till light came.

This, then, was the place where Henry had lived, and which he had learned to like. He would like it too. He inquired the way, and soon stood in front of a one-story wooden building, painted white, lettered "Wade & Ranney, Attorneys at Law." The door was a little ajar and Bart pushed it open and entered a largeish, dingy, soiled room, filled with book-cases, tables and chairs, with a generally crumpled and disarranged appearance; in the rear of which was its counterpart. A slender, white-haired, very young looking man, and another of large and heavy mould occupied the front room, while in the rear sat a third, with his feet on the table. Bart looked around and bowing to each: "I see Mr. Ranney is not in;" and with another glance around, "I presume Mr. Wade is not?"

"No. Both would be in during the evening."

"I am Bart Ridgeley," he said. "You may remember my brother Henry?"

"How are you, Bart? We know you, but did not at first recognize you,"

said white-hair frankly. "My name is Case,--this is Ransom, and there is Kennedy. We all knew your brother and liked him."

Bart shook hands with, and looked at, each. Case had small but marked features--was too light, but his eyes redeemed his face; and his features improved on acquaintance. Ransom was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, of heavy build, dark, and with a quick, sharp eye, and jerky positive way. Kennedy was sandy--hair, face, eyebrows and skin, with good eyes.

"I think we shall like you, Bart," said Case, who had examined him.

"I hope you will; it must be very pleasant to be liked," said Bart vivaciously. "I've never tried it much."

"There is one thing I observe," continued Case, "that won't suit Ransom--that way of taking off your hat when you came in."

"Oh!" said Bart, laughing, "I'm imitative, with a tendency to improve; and shall doubtless find good models."

"Don't mind Case," said Ransom; "he's of no account. Just come in?"

"Yes."

"How do you like our town?"

"Very well. There seems to be a little confusion of dry land and sea."

"You see, Mr. Ridgeley," said Case, "that the dry land and sea never were separated here. The man that had the job failed, and n.o.body else would ever undertake it. I think, Mr. Ridgeley," after a pause, "I had better tell who and what we are, as we shall be together for some time. This is Ransom--B. Ransom. His temperament is intellectual--I may say, brainy. That B. stands for brains emphatically, being the whole of them. He is rather a matter of fact than a conclusion of law, and were you to apply a rule of law to him, although matter of fact, he would be found to be immaterial, and might be wholly rejected as surplusage. He's rather scriptural, also, and takes mostly to the prophets, Jonadab, Meshac, and those revered worthies. He's highly moral, and goes for light reading to the elder Scriptures, drawing largely upon Tamar and Rachel and Leah, and the pure young daughters of Lot. Ruth is too tame for him. He was the inventor of our 'moral reform' sidewalks, on which, as you see, no young man can walk beside a maiden. The effect on morals is salubrious."

"Case! Case!" protested Ransom.

"As for law, he goes into a law book as a mite goes through a cheese, head on, and with about--"

"Case! Case! Case!" broke in Ransom again, "hold up your infernal gabble."

"I know the importance of first impressions," said Case, with gravity, "and I want you should start favorably; and if you don't come up to my eulogium, something will be pardoned to the partiality of friendship."

"Yes, yes! partiality of friendship!" said Ransom, excitedly; and turning to Bart, "he is a Case, as you see; but if a man should go into Court with such a Case, he would be non-suited; he isn't even _prima facie_."

"Good!" exclaimed Kennedy.

"Ransom, you are inspired; flattery does you good."

"Go on!" said Case; "don't interrupt him, he'll never get such another start."

"He's a poetic cuss," continued Ransom, "and writes verses for the Painesville papers, and signs them "C.," though I've never been able to see anything in them. He's strong on Byron, and though he's--he's--" and he stopped in excessive excitement.

"There you're out, Ransom," said Case, "and that is by far the ablest as well as the longest speech you ever made. If you had let me go on and fully open out your excellencies, you might have completed the last sentence. Now, Kennedy here--" resumed Case.

"Spare me!" said Kennedy, laughing; "give Ridgeley a chance to find out my strong points, if you please."

"Now, Case," said Ransom, reflectively, "Case is not a bad fellow, considering that he is good for nothing, and a smart fellow for one who knows nothing, and you will like him. He's a little stiffish, and devotes himself mostly to young ladies."

"Thank you," said Case.

Bart was amused at these free sketches, especially as none but good feeling prevailed, and remarked, "that it was fortunate for him that no acquaintance of his was present, who could do him justice."

He walked up to the large and well-filled book-cases, and mused about.

"My brother wrote and told me so much of all this that I thought I was familiar with it," he said at last.

"He used to sit in that corner, by the table, with his back to the window," said Kennedy, pointing to a place in the back room, which Bart approached. "He was usually the first here in the morning and the last to go at night, and then often took a book with him."

"We liked him very much," said Ransom, "and we forwarded to you a set of resolutions on hearing of his death."

"I received them," replied Bart, "and if I did not acknowledge it, I owe you an apology."

"You did, to Ranney," said Case.

The memory of his brother, who had read and worked, talked and laughed, mused and hoped in that little nook, came up very fresh to Barton.

Case proposed that they take a stroll, or a "string" as he called it, about the village, and as they walked in single file on the narrow sidewalks, the idea of "string" seemed to be realized. They went into the Court House and up into the court-room, and down into the Recorder's office, filled with books, and introduced Bart to Ben Graylord, the Recorder, who showed him a record-book written by his brother, every page of which sparkled with the beauty of the writing.

Then they went to the clerk's office of Col. Hendry, with its stuffed pigeon-holes, and books, and into the sheriff's office, and to divers other places.

Jefferson was about eleven or twelve miles from the lake, south of Ashtabula. It was selected as the county seat, and at once became the residence of the county officers, and of many wealthy and influential citizens, but never became a place of much business, while Ashtabula and Conneaut were already busy towns. Each lay at the mouth of a considerable creek, whose names they respectively bore, and which formed harbors for the lake commerce, and were both visited daily by the steamers that run up and down Lake Erie. These facts were communicated to Bart, as they walked about, and the residences of Mr.

Giddings, Judge Warren, Colonel Hendry, Mr. St. John, and others, were pointed out to him.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

OLD BEN.

That evening, Case and Bart went in rather late to supper at the Jefferson House, and Case pointed out B.P. Wade sitting at the head of one of the tables. Bart studied him closely.