ALLAHASSEE - The power lawyers sat up front, representing Al Gore and George W. Bush. But in the last row of the Florida Supreme Court room, Robert Webb, a 29-year-old communications technician, represented half the electorate.
The half that didn't vote.
Several days ago, Webb left Seattle aboard a Greyhound bus, bound for this city. He scrawled a hand-written sign that said, ''Count Each Vote.'' He joined hundreds of people from across the country, drawn to the stately Supreme Court building where the presidential election may well be decided.
But unlike most of the demonstrators, who vocally supported Bush or Gore, Webb didn't back a candidate. Instead, he seemed filled with guilt that he didn't participate.
''I didn't vote. I am very sorry I didn't vote,'' Webb said.
He came here in hopes of assuaging that guilt, stood in line, and won one of the last seats. This election, he said, served a purpose: It revitalized his interest in democracy.
In many ways, Webb's tale was as instructive as the intricate arguments made by learned lawyers during yesterday's Supreme Court hearing. As the nation watched the televised proceedings, the message wasn't merely about technical details of election law, or hanging chads, or dimpled ballots.
It was about the importance of the vote.
Said Webb: ''I will definitely vote in the future.''
The big foot wore black sneakers.
David Boies is a slight, balding man with an ill-fitting suit and unorthodox footgear who hardly fits the typecast for a lawyer on a prime-time television show. But here was the man on whom Vice President Gore was now relying, more than any other, to win the presidency.
It was Boies who won the government's antitrust case against Microsoft, a matter that dragged on for months in federal courts. Yesterday was the legal equivalent of Florida orange juice concentrate - a lengthy case that could have taken weeks consumed just slightly more than two hours.
Boies's task was clear: He was the amiable dealmaker. Boies wanted the justices to extend the deadline for recounted votes. But Boies didn't want to pick a deadline. He wanted the justices to make that difficult choice.
''If I were sitting in your chair, that would be a difficult question for me,'' Boies said. ''It is an even more difficult question standing where I am.''
But Boies had an idea.
He noted that Gore has said he would accept a statewide recount. ''We are not urging that upon the court, but certainly that is something that we have indicated that we would accept and we believe the court has the power to order.''
What kind of power?
Choosing his words deliberately, Boies said, hopefully: a ''broad, equitable power.''
There were no audible sighs. But if this had been scored like a presidential debate, the justices might be dismissed as, well, rude.
Within minutes of the start of the hearing, lawyer Paul Hancock got the first lesson. Hancock, the attorney for Bob Butterworth, Florida's Democratic attorney general, was just getting into his speech about the need to count every vote.
''The real parties in interest to this are not the presidential candidates nor the parties that support them -'' Hancock said, before he was abruptly cut off by Chief Justice Charles Wells.
''Mr. Hancock, excuse for interrupting you,'' Wells began. Wells's interruption was unusual only in that he said, ''Excuse me.'' After that, justices cut off attorneys as if they were returning tennis serves. They were argumentative. Time limits were strict. No one got more than 20 minutes to speak, and most of the time was spent responding to questions, not making speeches.
At one point, Justice Harry Lee Anstead grilled Bush attorney Michael Carvin on whether he had researched election law statutes in other states to see if they are comparable to Florida's.
''No, I'm not aware of -'' Carvin said.
''You haven't researched other states, is what your answer is?'' Anstead said impatiently.
''No, no,'' Carvin acknowledged.
''You haven't,'' Anstead concluded. ''OK.''
