“I don’t know. Does it cost much?”
“Nevermind. I’ll give you a letter to the lawyer, and he will charge it to me. You can pay me later.”
“Thankee,” says Catty.
“I’ll be down to see you two weeks from to-day,” says Mr. Sommers. “Don’t forget.”
“No danger,” says Catty, and we went out to hunt up that lawyer.
We found him in his office, about twenty stories up in the air. It was the highest up I had ever been. Going up in that elevator was just like going up in a balloon. It seemed sort of silly to make buildings so high and to work ’way up there a couple of hundred feet above the street. There’s so much earth that everybody could have his office or store right down on it if he wanted to. Catty said it was because that would take up too much room, and that folks wanted to be near one another so it would be easier to do business. That was all right, but it did cost a lot of money. Cities are awful expensive to build, I guess.
When we got to the lawyer’s office we sent Mr. Sommers’s letter in and the lawyer sent out for us. We told him what we wanted, and he asked for the little table. He said there would have to be drawings made and lots of things, but we could just leave it with him and he would tend to the whole thing. There would be some papers to sign, he said, but he would mail them to Catty and Catty could mail them back again.
“This is an ingenious thing,” he says, “and you ought to make money out of it.”
“Maybe,” says Catty, “but it takes money to make money. Factories cost a lot, don’t they?”
“Different-sized factories cost different prices,” says the lawyer, with a smile. “You might start with a small one.”