Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 104: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

\ 270 to do anything, and he’d do it, and make you all sorts of trouble, particularly as you expressed perfect satisfaction with the job, in writing, just before it was finished. Do you remember that note you wrote him?” ‘ Y-yes, but afterward—” ‘‘Ah-h!”? murmured Evan, playfully wag- ging a forefinger at him, “ but be careful what you write, man. Could you convince a judge and a jury, after writing that note, that you had any valid reason for with- ‘holding that $500?” “] don’t know. I never had anything to do with judges an’ juries,” acknowledged Corwell unhappily. “You're lucky,” responded Evan seri- ously. “I want to make it my busimess to keep you out of it.”’ _ Corwell’s agate eyes flared with hope as Todd proceeded after a slight pause. “A lawyer bears a heavy responsibility toward the community. I could get you and Sile in an uproar that might last for years. But I’m not here to disturb this community, but to heal its differences and bring men together in friendship. “I consider the mission of a so- called ‘ office lawyer’ the noblest one here on earth. I had rather sit here and mediate between a pair of old friends, who have had honest differences and bring them together, than to wrangle in open court.” He stared solemnly at Jonas, who nodded, impressed. _ “TJ have already won a concessicn from Sile Weeks, if you want to meet him half- way,” suggested Todd. ‘ If you will make him out a check to-day for $450, he will take that amount in full payment of the balance, thereby allowing you $50 for your grievance over the lath and the other small details; you to leave the check with me.” Corwell exhaled a great sigh of relief. He had been ready to pay the full $500. He had never before received a letter from a lawyer; it had scared him. ‘Tl do it!” he exclaimed hastily. a blank check?” He stared anxiously, fearful that Todd would change his mind. He left a few mo- ments later, refoiting in having unexpected- ly. saved $50; feeling a sort of shamefaced “ Got exultation in having somehow put it over THE ARGOSY. his old friend, Silas Weeks, and with the crowning, vague impression of having es- caped some sinister doom with which the courts had always been associated in his mind. An hour later, with mien strangely nervous for a man the village generally regarded as a stoic, Silas Weeks entered Evan Todd’s office. “Well,” he asked hesitantly, “I ain’t seen you for a couple o’ days. Did you send Jonas Corwell that letter?”’ With a quiet, triumphant air Evan hand- ed him the check, in the body of which Corwell had written, “‘ to balance account.” ‘“T gave him a receipt,” said Evan. Silas drew out a red- bandanna and mopped his brow. He exhaled a great sigh. ‘Good work, Evan!” he acknowledged. ‘“T was afraid, after your an’ my talk, we might have to go to law, an’ I wouldn’t sleep nights. I ain’t never had a lawsuit, an’ I don’t want none.” ‘“ You're right there!” endorsed the slen- der limb of the abhorred law. “ It’s much better to settle disputes in an office.” ‘“ Uhuh!” said Weeks, appearing again to relish the summer sunshine that streamed through the window. “ Did you have much trouble with Jonas, Evan?” ‘* Jonas isn’t the most reasonable person in the world,” answered Todd, with an air of weary reminiscence. “I had to talk to him a long time. He had laths on the brain. But I finally got him to admit that the plaster held.” ‘Maybe I hurried that job too much,” admitted Weeks, “‘ but he made me. He wanted the place sure an’ ready for them danged summer boarders. Anyway, it was a mighty little thing for him to kick about.” ‘“ Jonas is a good fellow,” soothed Todd. ‘But remember, he’s a laundryman. And a man in that business would be apt to be peevish sometimes, like a woman over the wash-tub.”’ ““ Maybe so,” nodded the mild, red-haired man. “‘ Well, Evan, what do I owe you?”’ “Oh,” promptly responded Todd, “ m charges are moderate. Let’s see; that bal- ance was $500; ten per cent is about right. Fifty dollars will cover it.” ‘“Wha— I see!’’ mumbled Silas Weeks “comicbooks.com —