But his client seemed in no hurry to state the facts. He seemed to be more interested in the question of cost.
“Suppose I have a complaint to make against a firm higher up the stream, what are the proceedings to be taken?”
“What do you complain about, fouling or improperly tapping your supply?”
Mr. Tinker took time to reply. “I don’t quite follow you,” he said.
“Why,” said Nehemiah, “water-right cases are usually complaints that a man has fouled the stream with dye-water or chemicals or by diverting ochre-water from above his own head-goit so that it may enter the river below his own mill but above his neighbour’s. That’s one class of case, and a comparatively easy one. The other is when a mill-owner fancies that the water that has passed over his neighbour’s water-wheel is not returned to the stream for his own use lower down the stream. Now that’s always a very delicate question, and one for experts. And it’s well known that for one surveyor you get to swear on your side, another can be got to swear on the other. They’re as bad as vets, in a horse-warranty case. Now which class of infringement do you complain of?”
Again Mr. Tinker had to pause for a reply. “O both,” he said. “Yes, certainly, both.”
“Why,” exclaimed Wimpenny, “whose mill is it?”
“The Co-op Mill,” said his client, somewhat shamefacedly, as the lawyer thought.
“What! That fellow, Pinder! By Jove, I’m glad of this. Gad! I’m as pleased as if you’d told me I was own brother to the Prince of Wales. But”—and his face fell.
“But what?” asked Jabez, sharply.