As that worthy happened to be out just then, the two friends had a good chance to exchange opinions. Albert's is already known, but, for reasons, he did not care to express it to Frank at this time.
"Frye is a shrewd lawyer, I presume," he answered, "and so far I have no fault to find. He takes good care to see I have work enough, but that is what I am hired for, and I have been rather lonesome, and glad of it."
Then to change the subject he added: "I want to thank you once more, Frank, for getting me the place. Things were in a bad way at home, and I needed it."
"You may thank dad, not me," replied Frank; "I was just going off on a trip when your letter came, and I turned the matter over to him. Frye's his attorney, you see."
"Are you personally well acquainted with Mr. Frye?" asked Albert, having an object in mind.
"No, not at all, except by sight," was the answer. "I believe he is considered a very sharp lawyer, and almost invariably wins his cases. Dad says he has won out many times when the law was all against him, and is not over-scrupulous how he does it. They say he is rich, and a skinflint. He always reminds me of a hungry buzzard."
Albert thought of Burns' apt cynicism just then, and wished that Frye might for one moment see himself as others saw him. He felt tempted to tell Frank just what Frye had said, and what his opinion of him was, but wisely kept it to himself. Had he been a woman, it is doubtful if he would have shown so much discretion, and not every man would.
"Well, I must be going," said Frank, at last. "I've got a date for the mat., this aft., so ta-ta. I'll call round some eve., at your room, and take you up to the club."
When his friend had departed, Albert resumed his rather monotonous copying the gist of a lot of decisions bearing upon a case that Frye had pending just then, and when he went out to lunch, it was, as usual, alone, and to a cheap restaurant.
"It's nice to have a rich father, a yacht, plenty of money and nothing to do but spend it," he said to himself ruefully that night, as he sat in his cheerless room smoking and dwelling upon the picture of a gay life as disclosed by his friend. "But we are not all born to fortune, and perhaps, after all, I might be worse off,"—which, to say the least, is the best way to look at it.