LANGFORD GETS A CHECK.
“I hope you realize, Mr. Langford, that we are not exactly made of money,” Mrs. Graham remarked tentatively by way of meeting the demand which she read between his words. “Moreover, we were under heavy expenses during the last year and you got a good deal of what we paid out.”
“Not so very much,” Langford corrected, from his point of view. “You must remember that I was working for you through another man and he handled the pay roll, on which he and I were the only payees, and naturally he took what he didn’t absolutely have to give to me.”
“Well, how much do you want for this service?” the woman inquired.
“I ought to have at least $25 a day and my expenses,” the lawyer answered.
“Absolutely out of the question. That’s several times the amount of our income from the source you are interested in. And a considerable part of that has to go for the boy’s clothing, board and education.”
“That is one of the important points to which I am coming,” Langford interrupted. “I come to inform you that Mrs. Hutchins is very much interested in how the boy is being clothed and fed and educated, and also how he is being treated, and she has decided to find those things out.”
“It’s a case of her old suspicions being revived?” Mrs. Graham asked.
“I suppose so; anyway, she’s mighty suspicious.”
“Who’s been peddling stories to her?”
“That’s something I didn’t find out.”
“Don’t you think a $25-a-day man ought to find out?”
“Perhaps; and perhaps I could have discovered that very thing if I had thought it wise to spend the time on it. After the mischief was done, it seemed hardly worth while to expend any effort to find the mischief maker. I decided it was best to get after the mischief itself and stop it.”
“I suppose you’re right,” assented Mrs. Graham. “But it really would be a lot of satisfaction to know who the traitor is.”
“This is no time to waste any of your efforts on revenge. That may come later, not now. But how about my fee?”
“You ask too much.”
“I don’t agree with you. That is a very small fee, compared with what some attorneys get. Why, I know lawyers who never take a case under $100 a day.”
“That’s in the big cities, where they are under heavy expenses—costly offices and office help.”
“Where do you get your information?”
“Oh, I have traveled and lived,” the woman replied with emphasis on the last word. “And I know there are plenty of judges who get only $10 a day, some less. Now, what do you think of that? Do you think you ought to get more than a judge?”
“Oh, fudge on the judges,” Langford exclaimed in affected disgust. “No big lawyer will take one of those political jobs. There are lots of big lawyers making $50,000 or $100,000 a year, and there are few judges getting more than $10,000.”
“Well, I can’t pay more than $10 a day, and I can’t pay that very long. We’re under heavy expenses here and in Baltimore.”
“You ought to economize, Mrs. Graham,” Langford advised. “Remember, this special income can’t last forever. The boy is past 10 years old now, and if nobody takes it away from you earlier, it will stop when he is 21.”
“Take it away!” Mrs. Graham exclaimed in a startled manner, indicating that her apprehension had not carried her imagination as far as this.
“Sure—why not?” the lawyer returned. “What do you think all this talk about spies has been leading up to?—a Christmas present? If Mrs. Hutchins is suspicious enough to send a lot of spies here to get the goods on you, don’t you think she has some notion of taking some sort of drastic action?”
“What kind of ‘goods’ does she expect to get on me?” the woman inquired.
“I can’t imagine, dream, or suspect.”
“Just hurry things along to an agreement tween you and me, and I’ll tell you.”
“I’ll give you $10 a day and reasonable expenses. That doesn’t include your board; only your carfare and such incidentals when you’re away from home. That is all conditioned, of course, on your proving to my satisfaction that you have the information you say you have. There’s no use of my fighting for this income if I have to pay it all out without getting my benefit from it.”
“I’ll try not to be so hard on you as all that,” Langford reassured the woman. “I accept your offer, although it’s the minimum I would consider. I suppose you are prepared to give me a check today?”
“Yes, I can give you something—your expenses thus far and maybe a little besides. Now hurry up and tell your story.”
“I can do it in a few words. Mrs. Hutchins has sent a dozen or more girls up here to find out how you treat the youngster and if he is well fed, clothed and educated. She’s received word from some source to the contrary and is planning to take him away if she discovers that her suspicions are true. These spies are all Camp Fire Girls who were camping on her farm. One of them is her niece. The proof of my statement that they are here to spy on you is in their plan to camp near your cottage and cultivate an intimate acquaintance with your family, particularly your two daughters. Two of them were up here looking over the lay of the ground; maybe they’re here yet. Undoubtedly you’ll see something of them tomorrow or the next day.”
Mrs. Graham’s eyes flashed dangerously. Langford saw the menace in her look and manner.
“As I am now in your employ as counsel,” he said, “I’ll begin giving advice at once. Cut out this hate business. It’s your worst enemy. Just be all smiles and dimples and give them the sweetest con game welcome imaginable. Pretend to be delighted to meet the bunch of Camp Fire Girls. Tell them you had long held their organization in the highest esteem. Take your two daughters into your full confidence. Tell them they must play their part, too, and play it well. They must be eager to become Camp Fire Girls and seek to be chummy with the spies.
“And as for the boy, in whom they are specially interested, you must treat him as if you regard him the dearest little darling on earth.” (Mrs. Graham’s face soured at this suggestion.) “No, none of that, or you’ll spoil the whole game. Mrs. Hutching means business, and all she needs to do is to prove a few acts of cruelty and neglect, and any court in the land will give her speedy custody of the child, in view of the provisions of his father’s will, which, you know, are very exacting of you and very friendly toward Mrs. Hutchins and her late husband. By the way where are the child and the other members of your family?”
“My husband is in Baltimore working at his regular employment,” Mrs. Graham answered. “I expect him here next week; his vacation begins then. My son, James, Jr., went up the lakes this morning with some friends of his. Addie, my oldest daughter, went to Twin Lakes to do some shopping, and the other girl, Olga, is in the next room with Glen.”
“By the way, Mrs. Graham, how well is the boy supplied with clothing?” Langford inquired.
“He has some good suits,” Mrs. Graham replied slowly as if going over Glen’s wardrobe piece by piece, in her mind.
“Dress him up in his best and get some more for special occasions. You might be working on some article of clothing for him also. That would indicate strongly that you are interested in his welfare.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I will take my check and go. I’ll be back again, but don’t think it advisable to come often. I have prepared a short telephone cipher code by which we can carry on a commonplace conversation over the wire and let each other know if all is well or if trouble is brewing or has already broken. Here is a copy of it.”
Mrs. Graham wrote the lawyer a check for $35, and he arose to depart.
“Remember,” he said as he stood facing the woman schemer at the doorway; “the success of this little plan of ours rests in the ability of yourself and other members of the family to play the most spontaneously genteel game the cleverest persons ever planned. If you fall down on this, undoubtedly you’ll lose your handsome side-issue income of $3,500 a year.”
Then he went out, cranked his rented automobile, and drove away.