Mortimer had dropped into Mr. Allen’s office and had expressed surprise at finding its tenant in town. “I been up here two three times a day fer a week, Lu,” he said, seating himself. “Where on earth you been?”
“Argument before the Federal court in Springfield,” Lucius answered. “What did you want to see me about, Mortimer?”
“Well, they’s been some talk about our pension goin’ out the family,” said Mortimer, “in case it happened my wife’s stepmother was to die. It comes through that branch, you know, Lu.”
“Is she ailing?”
“No,” said Mortimer. “She gits the best of care. We were only talkin’ it over, and some of ’em says, ‘Suppose she was to go, what then?’ ”
“I wouldn’t worry about it until she did,” his legal adviser suggested. “Anything else?”
Mortimer removed his hat, and from the storage of its inner band took half of a cigar, which, with a reflective air, he placed in the corner of his mouth. Then he put his hat on again, tilted back against the wall, and hooked his heels over a rung of his chair. “Heard about Henry Ledyard yet?” he inquired.
“No.”
“Well, sir, he went up there,” said Mortimer. “He only went oncet!”
“What was the trouble?”