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“Isn’t it probable that the objects you believed you saw were the result of shadows?” hopefully inquired the court.

“There was no moon at that hour and there were no shadows,” wearily replied the witness.

“That’s all,” said Mr. Riggsley. “I now ask that the entire testimony of this witness be eliminated from the record, as by his own evidence he is incompetent to give expert testimony in this case.”

“Wait a bit,” mildly requested Mr. Butterworth. “I wish to ask the witness if he has any explanation for this experience.”

“I can only set it down to a phantasm, an optical illusion,” sadly confessed the witness. “I never experienced it before or since.”

“After being deceived by your visual sense, when your mind should have been tranquil and composed, do you mean to say you were not grossly deceived in your estimate of Mr. Asher’s mental condition?” demanded Mr. Riggsley.

“I must have been the victim of some passing mental disorder,” wildly cried the witness. “But I still insist that Mr. Asher was sane and competent to transact any business.”

“I insist that the testimony be allowed to stand, as it is a matter of record that a man may be deceived by his senses in one instance without his whole mentality being tainted,” earnestly argued Mr. Butterworth. “No two eyewitnesses can give a similar description of any street scene. Objectively we are constantly being tricked. Dr. Pinkey’s eyes deceived him for the moment, but his mind was as acute as ever and he instantly detected the trick, evidencing a higher degree of perception than the average man possesses.”

“Yet very few persons, at liberty, see ostriches and hearts and printed words on March snowbanks,” interrupted Mr. Riggsley curtly.

“Mr. Butterworth, this is a very serious matter,” sorrowfully observed the court. “Have you any witnesses to corroborate what this witness has told us concerning the mental condition of Mr. Asher?”

“I have not, your honor,” sorrowfully admitted Mr. Butterworth. “This evidence came as a great surprise to me, as I have not talked with the witness for several weeks. I simply knew he was a friend of Mr. Asher and had observed him closely.”

“Then I fear I must strike out the evidence as being untrustworthy,” regretted the court. “Ahem. Had he believed he had seen the figure of a man skulking about the premises, or a — a sled — something attuned to the lonely — huh — environment — huh — and the season of the year. But — huh — an ostrich!”

“I ask the court to adjourn the hearing one week, postponing any decision till the return day,” requested Mr. Butterworth. “It is possible that in the meanwhile counsel and I may reach some agreement, tending toward a composition of the entire matter, and making unnecessary the need of taking further evidence.”

“I shall be pleased to have the court convenience Brother Butterworth to that extent,” readily assented Mr. Riggsley, rubbing his hands joyfully as he read a complete surrender in the old lawyer’s petition.

As the veteran was gathering up his papers, Jethuel whispered,

“Do you suppose they’ll agree to a compromise, or will they demand their full half?”

“Hum!” grunted Mr. Butterworth, frowning heavily as he wrote on a desk pad. “On your way to the office stop at the reference library and get me Ganot’s ‘Elements de Physique,’ Atkinson’s translation. Also, all of Professor Quell’s works on chemistry which you can find.”

III

The ensuing week was a busy one for Mr. Butterworth, although so far as his anxious assistant could discover his activities consisted largely in trotting about on mysterious errands at unseasonable hours. Among other things he directed his servants to prepare a cozy dinner for a few of his friends, to be served at his country place. Jethuel could not recall another instance when the country place was thrown open in winter.

Miss Asher had come to the office once to discuss the advisability of taking the witness-stand, but the old lawyer did not inform his assistant what he had decided on this point. In fact, he did not mention the will except as he observed on the afternoon preceding the return day,

“His eyes registered falsely, he insists, but he rejected their testimony. If he is rational enough to detect a flaw in his visual sense, how can he be put down as being incompetent to give expert testimony?”

“Do you remember the case of Hiram Tanker’s third personality?” grimly reminded Jethuel. “Your stand in that litigation established a precedent that would now be cited against you. But why didn’t he inform us of his uncanny experience?”

“He was ashamed,” replied Mr. Butterworth. “He hoped he would not be questioned on that point. He had to tell the truth when questioned because he is an absolutely honest man, and because Roscoe Quell knew of his experience. Anyway, I’m glad there’s no bad blood between Professor Quell and me. We’re good friends now, thanks to the mediation of Riggsley.”

This information was far from soothing to Jethuel’s outraged mind, and he sullenly shifted the conversation by asking,

“Any orders about to-night’s dinner?”

“No orders, except be there at six-thirty sharp. It will be very informal. The Surrogate, Mr. Riggsley and Professor Quell will be among the guests. It will be a good time to patch up all our differences.”

Once alone, Jethuel growled,

“If the old chap thinks this little dinner will soften the demands of the opposition any he’s awfully mistaken. I wonder if he knows how Riggsley has publicly boasted his client will not accept less than half of the estate.”

Whatever may have been Mr. Butterworth’s motive in giving the dinner, his guests acknowledged it as being an amiable one by presenting themselves prompt to the minute, wreathed in smiles. The Surrogate was happy, as the invitation evidenced the old lawyer bore him no ill-will, although informed that to-morrow’s decision must go against him. Mr. Riggsley was in excellent spirits, as Mr. Butterworth had assured him he would seek no compromise, but would abide by the ruling of the court. Professor Quell was quite fascinated by his host’s cordiality, and it almost appeared as if the dinner were given in honor of the learned litigant.

In a lull in the conversation, after the soup, Mr. Butterworth directed a servant to run up the window-shades, whimsically remarking,

“By a coincidence this room faces toward the north, as does the smoking-room in the Asher mansion. It happens that the atmospheric and climatic conditions tonight approximate those of that other night a year ago. I wonder if Dr. Pinkey were here if he would see more visions in the snow.”

Professor Quell and his counsel laughed heartily at what appeared to be proof of Mr. Butterworth’s resignation to the inevitable, while the Surrogate smiled feebly, undecided whether to maintain his official role, or compromise on a semi-serious demeanor. The other guests whispered their admiration of the old lawyer’s graceful surrender.

As the conversation lapsed again, Mr. Butterworth abruptly addressed Professor Quell,

“By the way, Professor, would you be kind enough to inform me to how many causes the various phenomena of phosphorescence may be referred?”

Professor Quell, suspending his fork in mid-air, opened his eyes in surprise and then narrowed them and intently gazed at the speaker, and replied,

“Five.”

“That’s what I had in mind,” murmured Mr. Butterworth. “You class them as what, if you’ll good-naturedly condescend to teach me?”