Blakely Consults Cameron’s Lawyer.

In rooms upon the second floor of a business block, whose windows looked down on the main thoroughfare of the country town, were the offices of Cameron’s lawyer friend. The ground floor of this building was occupied by firms in various lines of business, and for the accommodation of the occupants overhead there was on the outside of the building a stairway leading up from the street. Standing upon the landing at the head of this stairway, outlined in shadow by the morning sun against the whitewashed bricks of the wall, was the picturesque figure of Bill Blakely, awaiting the lawyer’s arrival.

“Ah, good morning, Bill!” said the latter as he reached the landing, curiously eyeing his early caller.

“Mornin’, Donald Ban,” returned Bill, as he followed him through the door. Donald Ban was curious as to the nature of the business which prompted this unexpected call from Bill. Often, to the discomfort of Blakely, this same lawyer had opposed his counsel in the settlement in court of the encounters he had figured in while disposing of the men who came over from The Gore to argue the cause for the tainted condition of the creek. Donald Ban had many times convinced the judge and jury that Blakely had been the offender and must pay the costs, at least, of the litigation. The lawyer had been impressed with the candid, matter-of-fact way in which Bill had accepted these verdicts. His manner upon each occasion seemed to indicate,—“Well, if the judge and jury say so, I’m willing to pay the fees of a lawyer smart enough to make them say so. Besides, I have had my fun out of it, too.” Then he paid up without an objection.

“Sit down, Bill,” said the lawyer in an encouraging tone, for down in his heart he liked the man. Bill had removed his peaked cloth cap, showing an intelligent head, covered with a heavy crop of unkempt, straight, white hair. Donald Ban moved about the room making comments on general topics, calculated to put his visitor at ease, but still he was at a loss to account for the appearance of Bill at his office. Suddenly Bill blurted out this question: “You are a friend of Andy Cameron, ain’t you, Donald Ban?”

“Yes,” replied the lawyer. “He is a client, and a friend of mine, also.”

“Well, so am I a friend of Cameron, and you can write that in the papers, too, when you make them out,” and Bill turned in his chair facing the lawyer, who had now seated himself at the opposite side of the office table. “Nick Perkins from The Gore,—you know him, too, I suppose, don’t ye?”

“Yes, I know him,” answered the other, still waiting for his clue to the situation. Bill during his last question had reached down into the lining of his vest and had taken therefrom an oblong package, inclosed in a wrapping which showed the signs of much handling and tied about with a soiled string. He laid it on the table before him, then continued: “Donald Ban, you are a good lawyer, and for that reason I never wanted you on my side. Mine was always the wrong side, and I was a-feared that you would make the jury say it was the right side, when I knew all the time it wasn’t. This is the time, though, Donald Ban, that I am here to see you the first thing.” Bill had risen and was leaning forward, his two hands resting upon the table. “In these papers,” he continued, “these papers that Nick Perkins holds against Andy Cameron, do they mention ‘on or before,’ or only mention that it is ‘on’ the certain day they are due?” The lawyer, noting the intense earnestness and excitement of Blakely, answered at once that the form of the mortgage held by Perkins against the Cameron properties read that “on or before the first day of October of that year, they were due and payable, and——”

“That’s enough, Donald Ban—all I wanted to know. It is now one day before, and you write it down in the papers and tell Andy when he comes back that a friend of his—you needn’t mind putting it down there as who it was—put up the cash and beat the hypocrite Perkins out at his own game. Count out what you want from that package, Donald Ban, and give the rest to me. Perkins will be along pretty soon now, and when he comes I want you to have it all ready for him to sign off his claim against the Camerons on The Front.” The lawyer, taken so completely by surprise, was at a loss to know what to say. “Cameron will be back soon, mark what I am telling you,” Bill continued, “and if he has made nothing, I will be a safer man for him to owe money to than Nick Perkins.”