Mr. Randolph had walked the distance from his home and office to the court building in Richmond on many previous occasions. He had defended accused murderers, argued contested wills involving large estates, and represented clients from all walks of life at the courthouse that he would soon be approaching.

As he shifted the bundle of papers he was carrying from one hand to the other, the thought that had clouded his mind numerous times over the past several days rose to the surface once again: he could not recall ever having been involved in a case in which the stakes were so high that was, at the same time, being treated so foolishly by one of the parties. In the present case, the fool was none other than the one man who could most easily resolve the case: the bullheaded Governor of Kentucky, James Wilkinson.

Mr. Randolph had worried that things would get fouled as soon as he received word that Wilkinson had come to Richmond. His suspicions were confirmed when, a few days earlier, they met with the Governor and his attorneys to explain the error they had found. Everyone in the room except the Governor seemed perfectly ready to admit that the error was clear and that settlement of the dispute should be a formality. For reasons that Mr. Randolph could not fathom, however, Wilkinson remained intransigent. He had insisted on allowing the final argument to be presented to the Court of Appeals on the appointed date and stormed out of the meeting, leaving the attorneys for Kentucky to gather their papers in awkward silence.

Mr. Randolph could not escape the notion that there was something more at work than the mere obstinance of a prig such as Wilkinson, but he could not pinpoint what it was. For all his stubbornness, Wilkinson had not given a clue regarding what his true intentions might be. As they reached the steps of the courthouse he glanced over at Camden. His young apprentice also had seemed to sense that the Governor was somehow not in earnest, but up to that point he had said nothing. Perhaps this afternoon after they returned from court he would ask him to divulge his thoughts.

Reaching the first step, Mr. Randolph felt a sharp pain in his knee. He stumbled slightly and lost his grip on the papers he had been carrying. Camden reached out to catch him.

"Mr. Randolph, are you all right, sir?"

"Yes, I think so. Whatever the pain was, it was momentary," Mr. Randolph said, testing the leg by gradually leaning more of his weight on it. Satisfied for the time that his leg did not seem about to buckle beneath him, he said, "I shall be fine, I think. But help me pick up these papers."

The younger man stooped over to collect the scattered documents just as Governor Wilkinson arrived at the courthouse. It seemed to Mr. Randolph that the sneer on the Governor's face was more indignant and haughty than ever, if such a thing were possible. He swept past Camden and Mr. Randolph without so much as a word of greeting; the attorneys accompanying Wilkinson looked back briefly, as if to offer as much of a collegial apology as their client would begrudgingly allow.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Camden let out a snort of disgust as he gathered up the last of the papers. Mr. Randolph only gave him a knowing look before the pair went inside.

They proceeded down the corridor to the courtroom where the judges of the Court of Appeals had been hearing cases over the past week. Mr. Randolph was sure that the judges of the Henrico County Circuit Court who ordinarily held court in the room were less than pleased at having to share the space, but it was, he thought, a modest price to pay in order to have the Court of Appeals available to hear such cases. Five of the Court's fourteen total judges had been appointed to hear the case, with the judges from Virginia and Kentucky automatically recused from the case. As silly as it might have seemed to Mr. Randolph just a few years before, the fate of a supply of small arms, located several days' journey beyond the mountains of western Virginia (on land that used to be part of Virginia) would be decided by judges from Massachusetts, South Carolina, Delaware, Rhode Island, and New York. That, however, was part of the compromise that had been reached after the aborted convention in Philadelphia and, in the larger picture, Mr. Randolph believed it would prove to be a successful one.

He and Camden seated themselves directly behind the bar and waited patiently. Before Mr. Randolph could go into his usual routine of reviewing his opening statement, he was tapped on the shoulder from behind. It was one of the attorneys for Kentucky, James Courtright, who wore an exhausted expression on his face.

"Mr. Randolph, please know that it irritates me no less than it does you to bother you at this point, but I have been instructed by my client to convey a message."

"Go ahead, Mr. Courtright."

"Kentucky will pay for the muskets so that the case may be dismissed. Payment will be made upon the terms previously proposed by the Commonwealth of Virginia as soon as possible . . . assuming Virginia still finds such an arrangement agreeable."

Mr. Randolph found himself almost unable to speak, for the shock he felt. "Yes, of course," he managed to spit out.

Mr. Courtright let out a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed as if he had been straining under a great burden. "I shall convey Virginia's acceptance to the Governor at once."

As he turned to leave, Camden started to blurt out, "But what . . ."

Mr. Randolph held up a hand, just as Camden caught himself. "Later," he told the young man.

As Mr. Courtright whispered to Governor Wilkinson on the other side of the room, Mr. Randolph leaned over to Camden and said in a low voice, "Whatever nonsense has been going through the Governor's head until now makes no difference for Virginia--at least not right now. We need not give the fool any pretext for going back on what is, perhaps, the only rational decision he's made in weeks."

At that, a door behind the bench opened and a clerk stepped through and then stood against the wall. "Oyez, oyez, oyez!" he cried in rich, baritone notes. "All rise and now give your attention. The Court of Appeals of the Confederation of American States is now in session," he continued. The five judges silently filed in and took their places one at a time.

After all the formal preliminaries were seen to, Judge Winthrop of Massachusetts peered over the bench and said, "The Court will now hear argument in the case of Virginia against Kentucky. Mr. Randolph, you may proceed."

Mr. Randolph stood and said, "Your honor, the parties have come to a settlement."