“You are fighting the suit?”
“Of course—it’s point-blank robbery! Stillings has had the case postponed two or three times in the hope of wearing Hixon out. It comes up again next week, I believe.”
“And you say Kinzie was curious about this lawsuit?”
“Yes. It seems that Hixon is, or has been, a customer of the bank; and Kinzie suggested that we ought to compromise.”
“Um,” said the big-bodied man thoughtfully. “In whose court does the case come up?”
“In Judge Watson’s.”
“Has Hixon a good lawyer?”
“He has the Kentucky colonel, suh,” laughed Maxwell; “our one original, dyed-in-the-wool, fire-eating spellbinder from the Blue-grass. When Colonel Bletchford gets upon his feet and turns loose, you can hear the bird of freedom scream all the way across Timanyoni Park.”
The big chemistry expert with the athletic slant was moving uneasily in his chair. After a little interval of silence he said: “I can’t be with you in any more of these little two-steps with the money trust, Richard. I’m going back to Washington to-morrow.”
Maxwell’s start carried him half-way out of his chair, and he dropped his short pipe and broke the stem of it.