On a Monday evening in January, 1883, I had returned comparatively late from work in the District Attorney's office in New York, and was in my rooms at the Crescent Club on Madison Square, corner of Twenty-sixth Street, making a leisurely toilet for dinner, when a note was brought me from Arthur White. In it he asked me to join a few mutual friends at his rooms on West Nineteenth Street off Fifth Avenue later in the evening for supper. He named the men-Gilbert Littell, Ned Davis, and Oscar Van Bult-who were to join him at euchre before supper. This was a favorite pastime with them, and I was bidden to come early, if I wished, and look on.