As usual, a soft buzzer sounded, the little page-boys scampered aside, the great red curtains parted, and the Justices of the U. S. Supreme Court stepped between them to their black-leather chairs behind the long mahogany bar. But this time there was a difference. At Chief Justice Charles Evans Hughes' left, a chair was draped in black; on his right sat one of the loneliest men in the world. No spectator on last week's decision-day could look at gaunt, craggy-faced James Clark McReynolds* without a stir of sympathy.

On a hot August day...

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