Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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36 ‘‘ Something like being cashier for a bank, for instance,” suggested Bradwell sarcas- tically. “Well,” laughed the other, “ there are other exacting professions besides the law, to be sure. If you say the word, though, [ll keep you in mind and may have some- thing to suggest later.” ; “Thanks,” Bradwell assented heartily. “Your heart’s O. K. I'll give the law a few more whirls, though, and if I find you’re right I’ll come back and surrender.” His second and third day yielded no better fruit. Most of his rebuffs were curt. A few were kindly. One lawyer had him brought into his private office and ques- tioned him at length as to his experiences only to turn him away coldly in the end with the calm statement that he had merely talked with him out of curiosity. Another, more well-meaning, advised him to go to the Prisoners’ Aid Association, whose offi- cers were in the business of getting employ- ment for men in Bradwell’s position. “Thanks; no,” Bradwell declined with emphasis. ‘‘I may be driven to selling pencils on a street-corner before I get through, but I don’t want any philan- thropy.” It was three days later when his little fund was nearly drained out that he got his first encouragement. He had just met an unusually obdurate office boy of the over- grown and officious type in the outworks of a particularly desirable firm. No amount of either dignity or cajolery on Bradwell’s part served to get him entrée even to the managing clerk. As he was turning away, baffled, he caught, through a half-open inner office door, bearing the name of the head of the firm, a glimpse of a face that appealed to him. He made up his mind to talk to that man. It meant two hours of lying in wait in the outer hall, but he accomplished his purpose. The man emerged at length. “This is Mr. Foster, isn’t it?” Bradwell ventured. “Yes,” the other assented. ‘“‘ What can [ do for you?” “Pardon me for waylaying you like this, but your office boy wouldn’t give me a regu- THE ARGOSY. lar chance at you. Would you mind glanc- ing over that letter? I’m looking for a place in a law office.” He handed Foster the letter and studied the man’s face for signs of encouragement while he read it. Foster perused a few words and thens glanced up with alert interest. ‘Oh, yes,” he said, ‘‘ I’ve heard of you. You're the young chap Cartwright. was tell- ing us about at the Lawyers’ Club the other evening. You called at his office, I believe, and got turned down. We had quite a discussion of your case.” He finished reading the letter with great interest. ‘““H-m! A remarkable document! I’d like to hear your experiences with it if I had time. I’m in a hurry now. I haven’t a thing here for you, but I'll tell you who has. Step back in the office a minute and T’ll get his address.”’ ‘ John, get this gentleman old J. B. Mat- thews’s address, over in Ellicott Square. I can’t think of it offhand,” he directed the lordly office boy. ‘““’You see old Matthews, and tell him I sent you,” he added to Bradwell. ‘“ And say, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it greatly if you’d call me up this afternoon and tell me how you come out. I’ve a particular reason for wanting to know.” CHAPTER IV. A SPORTING PROPOSITION. B. MATTHEWS did not appeal to * Bradwell at first sight. He was one of those large and laboriously impressive men with a manner oily to the point of greasi- ness. And there was a grating undertone to the overunctious cordiality of his greeting that somehow gave Bradwell the impression that he was not exactly glad to see him despite the promptness with which Foster’s spon- sorship gained him admission. ‘“Ah, my dear fellow,” he exclaimed, ‘“ ’m—ah—very glad to see you—to be sure. I’ve heard of you. So Mr. Foster sent you to me? Did he—ah—by any chance—ah—intimate why he sent your” COMmiiclbooo® SS (CO