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ow Colonel Clayton to the door and close it behind him。〃
Three nights later Malachi admitted a man he had never seen before。 He was short and thick…set and had a grim； firmly set jaw。 Under the lapel of his coat was a gold shield。 He asked for Mr。 Horn； who had lately been living in New York。 He would not come inside the drawing…room； but sat in the hall on the hair…cloth sofa； his knees apart； his cap in his hand。
〃I'm the Chief of Police；〃 he said to Oliver； without rising from his seat； 〃and I come because Mr。 Cobb sent me。 That's between ourselves； remember。 You'll have to get out of here at once。 They've got a yarn started that you're a government detective sent down here to spot rebel sympathizers and they'll make it warm for you。 I've looked into it and I know it ain't so； but this town's in no shape to listen to anything。 Besides； a while ago one of my men found your friend's uniform in the cellar where you hid it behind the barrels and the handkerchief all blood； with your name on it； and they've got you dead to rights。 That'll all be out in the morning papers and make it worse for you。 You needn't worry about HIM。 He's all right。 Mr。 Cobb found him at daylight this morning just where your nigger left him and drove him over to the junction。 He's with his regiment by this time。 Get your things together quick as you can。 I'll wait for you and see you safe aboard the owl train。〃
Within the hour Oliver had turned his back on his home and all that he loved。
CHAPTER XIX
THE SETTLING OF THE SHADOW
The bruised crocuses never again lifted their heads in Kennedy Square。
With the settling of the shadowa shadow black with hatemen forgot the perfume of flowers； the rest and cool of shady nooks； the kindling touch of warm hands； and stood apart with eyes askance； women shuddered and grew pale； and sad…faced children peered out through closed blinds。
Within the Square itself； along paths that had once echoed to the tread of slippered feet； armed sentries paced； their sharp challenges breaking the stillness of the night。 Outside its wrecked fences strange men in stranger uniforms strode in and out of the joyless houses； tired pickets stacked their arias on the unswept piazzas； and panting horses nibbled the bark from the withered trees； rank weeds choked the gardens； dishevelled vines clung to the porches； and doors that had always swung wide to the gentle tap of loving fingers were opened timidly to the blow of the sword…hilt。
Kennedy Square became a tradition。
Some civilizations die slowly。 This one was shattered in a day by a paving…stone in the hands of a thug。
CHAPTER XX
THE STONE MUGS
Frederick Stone； N。A。； member of the Stone Mugs； late war correspondent and special artist on the spot； paused before the cheerful blaze of his studio fire； shaking the wet snow from his feet。 He had tramped across Washington Square in drifts that were over his shoe…tops； mounted the three flights of steps to his cosey rooms； and was at the moment expressing his views on the weather； in terms more forcible than polite； to our very old friend； Jack Bedford； the famous marine…painter。 Bedford； on hearing the sound of Fred's footsteps； had strolled in from his own studio； in the same building； and had thrown himself into a big arm…chair； where he was sitting hunched up； his knees almost touching his chin； his round head covered by a skull…cap that showed above the chair…back。
〃Nice weather for ducks； Jack； isn't it？ Can't see how anybody can get here to…night；〃 cried Fred； striking the mantel with his wet cap； and scattering the rain…drops over the hearth。 〃Just passed a Broadway stage stuck in a hole as I came by the New York Hotel。 Been there an hour； they told me。〃
〃Shouldn't wonder。 Whose night is it； Fred？〃 asked Jack； stretching out one leg in the direction of the cheery blaze。
〃Horn's。〃
〃What's he going to do？〃
〃Give it up。 Ask me an easy one。 Said he wanted a thirty by forty。 There it is on the easel；〃 and Fred moved a chair out of his way； hung his wet coat and hat on a peg behind the door； and started to clear up a tangle of artillery harness that littered the floor。
〃Thirty by forty； eh；〃 grunted Jack； from the depths of his chair。 〃Thunder and Mars！ Is the beggar going to paint a panorama？ Thought that canvas was for a new cavalry charge of yours！〃 He had lowered the other leg now； making a double… barrelled gun of the pair。
〃No； it's Horn's。 He's going to paint one of the fellows to…night。〃
〃In costume？〃 Jack's head was now so low in the chair that his eyes could draw a bead along his legs to the fire。
〃Yes； as an old Burgomaster； or something with a ruff；〃 and he kicked an army blanket into a corner as he spoke。 〃There's the ruff hanging on that pair of foils； Waller sent it over。〃 Then his merry eyes fell on Jack's sprawled…out figure； his feet almost in the gratea favorite attitude of his neighbor's when tired out with the day's work； comfortable perhaps； but especially objectionable at the moment。
〃Hereget up； you old stick…in…the…mud。 Don't sit there； doubled up like a government mule；〃 he laughed。 （The army lingo still showed itself once in a while in Fred's speech。） 〃Help me get this room ready or I'll whale you with this；〃 and he waved one end of a trace over his head。 〃If the fellows are coming they'll be here in half an hour。 Shove back that easel and bring in that beerit's outside the door in a box。 I'll get out the tobacco and pipes。〃
Jack stretched both arms above his head； emitted a yawn that could be heard in his room below； and sprang to his feet。
Fred； by this time； had taken down from a closet a tin box of crackers； unwrapped a yellow cheese； and was trimming its raw edges with a palette knife。 Then they both moved out a big table from the inner room to the larger one； and； while Jack placed the eatables on its bare top； Fred mounted a chair； and began lighting a circle of gas…jets that hung from the ceiling of the skylight。 The war…painter was host to… night； and the task of arranging the rooms for the comfort of his fellow…members consequently devolved upon him。
The refreshments having been made ready； Fred roamed about the rooms straightening the pictures on the wallsan old fad of his when guests of any kind were expectedpunching the cushions and Turkish saddle…bags into plumpness； that he had picked up in a flying trip abroad the year the war was over； and stringing them along the divan ready for the backs and legs of the club…members。 Next he stripped the piano of a collection of camp sketches that had littered it up for a week； dumped the pile into a closet； and； with a sudden wrench of his arms； whirled the instrument itself close against the wall。 Then some fire…arms； saddles； and artillery trappings were hidden away in dark corners； and a lay figure； clothed in fatigue cap and blue overcoat； and which had done duty as 〃a picket〃 during the day； was wheeled around with its face to the wall； where it stood guard over Fred's famous picture ofb〃The Last Gun at Appomattox。〃 His final touches were bestowed on the grate…fire and the coal…scuttle； both of which were replenished from a big pine box in the hall。
Jack Bedford； meanwhile； had busied himself rolling another tablea long oneunder the circle of gas…jets so that the men could see to work the better； and loading it with palettes； china tiles； canvases； etc。； to be used by the members of the club in their work of the evening。 Last of all and not by any means the least important； Jack； by the aid of a chair； gathered together； on the top shelf of the closet； the unique collection of stone beer…mugs from which the club took its name。 These he handed down one by one to Fred； who arranged them in a row on one end of the long table。 The mugs were to hold the contents of sundry bottles of beer； now safely stowed away in the lidless； pigeon…holed box； standing in the hall； which Fred unloaded later； placing the bottles on the window…sill outside to cool。
Before they had ended their preparations； the stamping of feet on the stair was heard； the door was thrown back； and the several members of the club began to arrive。
The great Waller came first； brushing the snow from his shaggy coat； looking like a great bear； growling as he rolled in； as was his wont。 Close behind him； puffing with the run upstairs； and half…hidden behind Waller's broad shoulders； trotted Simmons； the musician。
Not the tousled； ill…clad Waller； the 〃Walrus〃 of former daysno one dared to call the painter by any such names since his picture took the Medaille d'Honneur at Parisand not the slender； smooth… faced Simmons； who in the old days was content to take his chances of filling a vacancy at Wallack's or the Winter Garden； when some one of the regular orchestra was under the weather； but a sleek； prosperous； rotund Waller； with a bit of red in his button… hole； a wide expanse of shirt…front； and a waxed mustache； and a thoughtful； slightly bald； and well… dressed Simmons； with gold eyeglasses； and his hair worn long in his neck as befitted the leader of an orchestra whose concerts crowded the Academy to the doors。
These two arrivals nodded to Jack and Fred； Waller cursing the weather