Janice was so excited she could scarcely speak intelligibly for a
minute. But finally she made her father understand what was
going on in the kitchen.
"And he's come to take their house right away from them,"
concluded the girl. "He's given her a paper, and she's got to
give him the house--and everything!"
"Oh, no; not so bad as all that," said daddy, soothingly.
"Things aren't done in just that way-- not even by shyster
lawyers. This is just a notice of suit he has given her. But
you run, Janice, and tell them to come in here. I will hear what
this man has to say."
So Janice ran back to the kitchen. She held the door open, and,
with rather a commanding air for so young a girl, looking
straight at the curly-haired man:
"You and Mrs. Carringford come into the living room. My father
wants to see you."
"Hey?" said the man. "Who is this?"
"Mr. Broxton Day," said Mrs. Carringford, quietly. "I think we
had better see Mr. Day before we go any farther in this matter."
"Oh, I have no interest in seeing anybody else, ma'am," said the
lawyer hastily. "Of course, you can take advice if you wish to.
Every move you make, however, will cost you money, as you'll
find. It will be throwing good money after bad money, I assure
you."
"Now if you feel like settling the matter out of court--"
"We will go in, and you can say all that before Mr. Day," said
Mrs. Carringford firmly. "It seems to me I shall understand it
better in front of him."
"Daddy is waiting for you," said Janice urgently. "He has a
broken leg so he can't come here to get you," she added looking
at the lawyer significantly.
Maybe the fact of this assurance--that Broxton Day was
practically helpless physically--led the lawyer to take a chance
in the living room. But he was manifestly very ill at ease from
the moment he heard Mr. Day's name mentioned.
"Will you oblige me with your name, sir?" said daddy in his
ever-courteous way.
The curly-haired man fumbled for a card and finally handed one to
Mr. Day.
"'Mr. Jonas Schrimpe,'" repeated daddy. "Are you practising at
the bar here in Greensboro?" "My office is in Napsburg, Mr. Day.
Three Forty-two Main Street."
"Ah! Are you acquainted with Mr. Abel Strout?"
"I have nothing to do with Mr. Strout," said the man, rather
sharply. "I have already told the lady that. My client is Mrs.
Blayne--"
"I understand," said Mr. Day suavely. "I merely asked you a
question, Mr. Schrimpe. Do you know Mr. Strout?"
"Well--I know him by sight."
"Naturally. As I chance to remember his office is in the same
building on Main Street as your own. I remember the number,"
said Mr. Day smiling. "Three Hundred and Forty-two Main Street."
Mr. Schrimpe fidgeted and turned very red in the face. Mr. Day
went on quietly:
"Is this client of yours in Napsburg?"
"She lives in Croydon, Michigan."
"In Michigan! How came she to pick out you Mr. Schrimpe, for an
attorney in this matter? Forgive the question; I am curious."
"Why--I--I was recommended to her."
"Ah! By a friend, I suppose."
"She--she heard of me down here, and wanted to put the case in a
lawyer's hands on the spot."
"'On the spot,'" repeated Mr. Day. "Why not in some lawyer's
hands in Greensboro, rather than Napsburg?"
Mr. Schrimpe seemed very confused, as well as angry; but he did
not dare to assert himself. Mr. Day held out his hand for the
paper the lawyer had given to Mrs. Carringford.
"Just leave it to me, Mrs. Carringford," he said confidently. "I
know just what to do. Possibly had I not broken my leg I would
have been able to warn you of this."
"Then that Abel Strout is at the root of it, just as I said," she
cried.
"Not a doubt of it," replied Mr. Day. "That John Jamison was but
a dummy."
"I assure you," began the red-faced lawyer, but Mr. Day
interrupted:
"Your assurances would not be accepted before this court, I am
afraid, Mr.--ah Schrimpe. Now would you mind, as you are in
town, calling upon Mrs. Carringford's legal adviser in regard to
this affair?"
I--oh--"
"Oh, Mr. Day!" interjected Mrs. Carringford, "a lawyer's services
cost so much."
"This man is my own lawyer," said Mr. Day promptly. "I assure
you that he will look into this suit without charging you much,
Mrs. Carringford. If Mr. Schrimpe--"
"Oh, if it's not out of my way as I go back to the railroad
station," growled the curly haired man.
"Not at all. It is over the bank--the Farmers and Merchants
Bank. Mr. Randolph E. Payne is the gentleman."
"Great Scott!" gasped Mr. Schrimpe, actually appearing to
shrivel, "Mr. Payne?"
"Yes. He is known to you?"
"Everybody knows Mr. Payne."
"He is well known. As good a lawyer, I believe, as we have in
this part of the State. You do not mind meeting him?"
"Er--will he see me, Mr. Day?"
"I will telephone to him at once. I assure you he will give you
a hearing--and thank you. Good day, Mr. Schrimpe."
Although daddy could not leave his chair, Janice saw that he had
a way of getting rid of visitors promptly when he wanted them to
go. Mr. Schrimpe scuttled out in a hurry.
"Wheel me to the telephone, Janice," said Mr. Day cheerfully. "I
hope Payne frightens that little shrimp out of a year's growth.
If ever I saw a shyster lawyer, I saw one when that fellow came
into the room."
"Oh, Mr. Day! but this suit? That summons? What shall I do?"
"Do nothing yet! assure you, Mrs. Carringford, you will have one
of the best lawyers in the State to tell you what to do when the
times comes. Of course, if the matter comes to court, you will
have to go into court and meet them. But don't worry till that
time comes. That is my advice."
"Then they can't take our home away from us?" cried Amy
joyfully."
"Hold on!" advised Daddy. "I do not say that. I don't wish to
encourage you with any false hopes--nor to discourage you,
either. I know nothing--absolutely nothing--regarding the legal
status of this case. I have my suspicions that Abel Strout is
behind it."
"Oh, I am sure of that!" cried Mrs. Carringford.
"Nevertheless, it may be that there is an unsatisfied claimant of
the old Peter Warburton Blayne property. This Mrs. Alice G.
Blayne may be perfectly honest in her contention."
"But in that case won't Mr. Strout or Mr. Jamison give me my
money back?" asked Mrs. Carringford.
"If there was much chance of that, do you think Strout would have
stirred up any such suit as this?" asked Mr. Day quietly. "No.
Strout at least thinks he sees his way to making you lose the
house. Jamison was his dummy--used by him in order to keep,
himself out of trouble."
"Oh, Mr. Day! Don't say that"
"I say he thinks he has a chance. But he may be mistaken.
Strout is sly. This may be merely 'strike suit' started in the
hope of scaring you into making a disastrous settlement with him.
He wants to get the property back. The foundations for that
factory are already being laid. Property values Mullen Lane are
going up."
"Oh, dear me!" sighed Mrs. Carringford, starting back toward the
kitchen, "this is a wicked world."
"Nothing the matter with the world," said Mr. Day, cheerfully.
"It's some of the folks in it."
He called Mr. Randolph E. Payne's office then and talked to the
successful lawyer for some time. To Janice, afterward, he would
say nothing more encouraging than he had said to the widow.
"When one mixes up with a sharper like Abel Strout, one is likely
to be burned before he is through. Strout is always and forever
trying little, nasty, legal tricks. And Schrimpe is an instrument
fitted to Strout's hand.
"Perhaps they have found some ignorant woman who really was a
relative of Peter Blayne, and who may have a small claim on the
property. It is enough to invalidate the deed Mrs. Carringford
has and yet she will be unable to prove that Strout and his man
Jamison knew about the fault in the title.
"If he makes her sue to recover the thousand dollars she paid the
legal fees will eat up that sum--and he can afford to hire
lawyers and dribble along through the courts better than she
can."
"Oh, Daddy!"
"Yes, I am afraid, if Strout--or, rather, Schrimpe-- has a good
case it will be better to settle it out of court."
"But, dear Daddy! Mrs. Carringford has no money to pay lawyer's
fees, or settle cases," urged Janice.
"True. And that is the unfortunate part of it. Let us wait and
see what Mr. Payne advises after he has looked into the matter.
Whatever he says, she would better do."
This ended the matter for the time being. But all the dark
clouds of trouble seemed to have lowered upon the Carringfords
again. Janice Day was sorry for them, but this was a case in
which she positively could not "do something" to help. She could
only offer her sympathy.