“Well, he’s not the only one down there that feels that way about you, Bob. You know how the folks there stick together. The men that amount to anything. Tom’s bunch. Old Charley Steele, and Dave Evans, and that crowd. They’ve always been back of you. Sort of feel as though you were one of them.”
“Best friends I’ve got in the world,” Hosmer agreed.
Cotterill chuckled. “Matter of fact, it’s right funny to see them watch the papers when you’re sitting in one of these big cases up here. Bragging to strangers that you’re from there.”
“Yeah,” Hosmer remarked encouragingly. He watched the fat little lawyer, an ironic question in his eyes.
“They’re all getting ready to get behind you and push, when you run again,” Cotterill assured him. “Dave Evans said here, just the other day, that you could get pretty near anything you wanted to, if you watched your step. It means a lot to have the home town folks back of you, you know. There’s a neat bunch of votes down there, Bob.”
“Sure,” the Judge agreed.
Cotterill opened his hands with a frank gesture. “Of course, they’re all watching this case, right now. It’s pretty important to the Furnace, you know. Not much in this one case, but it’s a precedent. Reckon it would cut into the business they do down there quite a bit if things went wrong. Tom says to me when we first talked about it: ‘You got to win this case, Jim. If you don’t, it’s going to cost us money.’ And what hurts the Furnace hurts the town.”
He hesitated; and the Judge said slowly and pleasantly: “You’re dodging around corners, Jim. What’s on your mind?”
Cotterill swung toward the other, leaning a little forward in his chair. “Well—” he began, then hesitated. “Bob, you know my reputation, I guess?”
“I know you’re reputed to be—successful,” said the Judge. If there was in his word anything of criticism or of reproach, Cotterill paid no heed.