Potts, enthroned upon a big box in front, among bolts of muslin, straw
hats, and bunches of innocent early lettuce, read the splendid tribute
of the store's proprietor to his capacity as an expert in jurisprudence
and his fitness for a seat of judicial honor. The bank and Chislett's
being still closed, the little street, except in the near vicinity of
Potts, began to sleep in a strange calm.
There were other doors to conquer, however, and Potts, at the head of
his _Argus_-waving crowd of degenerates, vanquished them all.
Up and down he wandered busily, doors closing and curtains falling
swiftly at his approach. Then would he turn majestically, and say, with
a hand raised, "My friends, a moment's silence, while I read you this
magnificent tribute from one who is unfortunately not among us."
He was so impressive with this that at last the crowd would remove hats
at each reading, to the Colonel's manifest approval. The doffed hat and
the clutched _Argus_ became the mark of his drink-bought serfs. By four
o'clock the only hospitable doorways on the street were those of the
three saloons. Our leading business men were departing from their
establishments by back doors and the secrecy of gracious alleys.
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