"Glad to see you, Angus," he greeted cheerfully, "sit down and have a chat."
Angus sat down and, taking fifty dollars in bills from his pocket, handed the money across the desk. The judge did not take it. He frowned at the tenderer.
"What is this?" he demanded.
"Your fee," Angus explained.
"For what?"
"For telling me what I want to know."
"Indeed!" rasped the judge. "And how the devil do you know that I can or will tell you what you want to know? And who gave you the authority to fix my fee?"
"You fixed it yourself," Angus reminded him. "When I was here two days ago you told me your fee for advice was fifty dollars; and now I have brought the money for the advice."
A dull color rose in the old lawyer's cheeks.
"You mean I was too drunk to give it," he said. "I remember that you were here, but nothing about fifty dollars. Put it back in your pocket, and tell me what you want to know."