"Is that you, Mother Howard? I'm getting up, right away."
A slight chuckle answered him.
"But this is n't Mother Howard. May I see you a moment?"
"Who is it?"
"No one you know—yet. I 've come to talk to you about your partner. May I come in?"
"Yes." Fairchild was fully alive now to the activities that the day held before him. The door opened, and a young man, alert, almost cocky in manner, with black, snappy eyes showing behind horn-rimmed glasses, entered and reached for the sole chair that the room contained.
"My name 's Farrell," he announced. "Randolph P. Farrell. And to make a long story short, I 'm your lawyer."
"My lawyer?" Fairchild stared. "I haven't any lawyer in Ohadi. The only—"
"That does n't alter the fact. I 'm your lawyer, and I 'm at your service. And I don't mind telling you that it's just about my first case. Otherwise, I don't guess I 'd have gotten it."
"Why not?" The frankness had driven other queries from Fairchild's mind. Farrell, the attorney, grinned cheerily.