Well, sir, you should have seen Skip! His long neck looked like it stretched six inches to get his head closer to Mr. Sturgis, and his pinkish hair bristled, and his little squinty eyes snapped and glittered. Then he caught hold of his nose like he always does when he is excited and began bending it back and forth till I thought likely he’d crack it off.
“Who’s gone and sneaked behind my back and got that lease? Hey? What slinkin’, underhanded, sheep-stealin’ pirate did me sich a mean trick? It’s agin the law, I tell you. ’Tain’t honest. I’ll git me a lawyer and show you. That’s what I’ll do.”
“As far as that point is concerned,” says Mr. Sturgis, “my client is amply protected by the laws of this state. As for any action you may take with reference to keeping possession of this property, my client will be perfectly able to meet you and, if I may say so, to cause you to regret such a waste of time and money. The lease belongs to my client. If he wishes to force you out in thirty days, he will be able to do so.”
“But where’ll I go? What’ll I do? I got money invested here. There hain’t another store to move to.”
“That, Mr. Skip, does not, so to speak, worry my client. Indeed, if I be not wrongly informed, my client would not object to causing you a trifle of annoyance.”
“Who is your client? Who is he?”
“I am not at liberty to state.”
“He’s a skinflint, that’s what he is. What kind of a way of doin’ business is this, anyhow? ’Tain’t fair. ’Tain’t just. No business man would treat another like this.”
“H’m! I’m not so sure, Mr. Skip. While we’re on that subject I might say I’ve heard of dealings of your own that might have been more upright. I have been informed, Mr. Skip, that you have resorted to means which are, to say the least, reprehensible. I, sir, have been practising law in Wicksville for thirty-five years. I can assure you, sir, that, had I not considered my client justified in the course he follows in this matter, I should have declined to act for him. I do believe him justified. I believe, sir, that it will do you no harm, sir, to have, so to speak, a dose of your own medicine.”
Skip got up out of his chair and paced up and down and waggled his nose and craned his neck. He just didn’t know what to do. He was scared and excited and mad—my! my! but he was mad! He was caught, and he knew it. You could tell by his face he knew it, and you could see he was pretty wrought up with himself for not getting a lease in the beginning. The more he walked up and down and thought it over the more scared he got—scared of losing some money. Pretty soon he stopped before Mr. Sturgis and says: