“He left all the presentments with me,” the deputy replied, “but there was no such case as that.”

“Could he have left it with some one else to attend to?”

“No.”

Peter went back to his office, took down the Code and went over certain sections.  His eyes had rather a sad look as they gazed at his wall, after his study, as if what he had read had not pleased him.  But if the eyes were sad, the heavy jaw had a rigidness and setness which gave no indication of weakness or yielding.

For two weeks Peter waited, and then once more invaded officialdom.

“The District Attorney’s engaged, and can’t see you,” he was told.  Peter came again in the afternoon, with the same result.  The next morning, brought only a like answer, and this was duplicated in the afternoon.  The third day he said he would wait, and sat for hours in the ante-room, hoping to be called, or to intercept the officer.  But it was only to see man after man ushered into the private office, and finally to be told that the District Attorney had gone to lunch, and would not return that day.  The man who told him this grinned, and evidently considered it a good joke, nor had Peter been unconscious that all the morning the clerks and underlings had been laughing, and guying him as he waited.  Yet his jaw was only set the more rigidly, as he left the office.

He looked up the private address of the officer in the directory, and went to see him that evening.  He was wise enough not to send in his name, and Mr. Nelson actually came into the hall to see him.

The moment he saw Peter, however, he said:  “Oh, it’s you.  Well, I never talk business except in business hours.”

“I have tried to see you—­” began Peter.

“Try some more,” interrupted the man, smiling, and going toward the parlor.

Peter followed him, calmly.  “Mr. Nelson,” he said, “do you intend to push that case?”

“Of course,” smiled Nelson.  “After I’ve finished four hundred indictments that precede it.”

“Not till then?”

“No.”

“Mr. Nelson, can’t you overlook politics for a moment, and think of—­”

“Who said anything of politics?” interrupted Nelson, “I merely tell you there are indictments which have been in my office for five years and are yet to be tried, and that your case is going to take its turn.”  Nelson passed into the back room, leaving his caller alone.

Peter left the room, and passed out of the front door, just as a man was about to ring the bell.

“Is Mr. Nelson in?” asked the man.

“I have just left him, Mr. Dummer,” said Peter.

“Ah!  Good-evening, Mr. Stirling.  I think I can guess your business.  Well.  How do you come on?” Dummer was obviously laughing internally.

Peter started down the steps without answering.

“Perhaps I can help you?” said Dummer.  “I know Mr. Nelson very well in politics, and so does Mr. Bohlmann.  If you’ll tell me what you are after, I’ll try to say a good word for you?”