Mrs. H. Harrison Wells's Shoes
Linton said he was a reporter for The Day.
"That's so; I forgot," said the young lawyer. "Are you going to write an article up here—What about?"
"They want me to find out about Mrs. Wells's shoes or something."
"You don't say so! Why, I'm her counsel," Lawrence said, sententiously. "I'll be glad to give you all the help I can, Jim. I'll introduce you to her, if you like."
"Oh, no, you won't, though," thought Linton. "Is she going to stay during the trial?" he asked.
"Yes, of course. It's a civil suit, you know. She'll have to testify." The young lawyer hadn't tried very many cases before, and he was feeling important. "Excuse me a minute," he said. "You wait here, Jim."
But Linton did not. He went out of the door before Lawrence reached his client's side, and he meant to stay out until he heard the clerk call out: "Hawkins against Wells." And then he was merely going to get the bare facts and go down to, the office and resign. He was sick of this business.
110
