"Why--you--"

"I won't do it, I said," McNamara repeated, sharply. "Don't think
for a minute that I haven't gone into this fight armed for
everything. Writs of supersedeas! Bah!" He snapped his fingers.

"We'll see whether you'll obey or not," said Wheaton and when he
and Glenister were outside he continued:

"Let's get to the Judge quick."

As they neared the Golden Gate Hotel they spied McNamara entering.
It was evident that he had slipped from the rear door of his
office and beaten them to the judicial ear.

"I don't like that," said Glenister. "He's up to something."

So it appeared, for they were fifteen minutes in gaining access to
the magistrate and then found McNamara with him. Both men were
astounded at the change in Stillman's appearance. During the last
month his weak face had shrunk and altered until vacillation was
betrayed in every line, and he had acquired the habit of furtively
watching McNamara's slightest movement. It seemed that the part he
played sat heavily upon him.

The Judge examined the papers perfunctorily, and, although his air
was deliberate, his fingers made clumsy work of it. At last he
said: