“You mean you don’t want a retaining fee?” asked Captain Hawkesbury.
“I mean I don’t want your case!” exclaimed the lawyer. “I would not handle such a case! It is little—if anything—short of criminal!”
“Be careful!” blurted out the captain.
“It is you who had better be careful,” said the lawyer. “I don’t want your case—no decent member of the bar would. In fact I am not sure but what I ought to proceed against you.”
“Don’t you dare!” cried Mr. Doolittle.
“Oh, I’m not afraid,” was the retort. “The only question is about getting the evidence against you. If I knew this young Tom Taylor—”
“You’re going to know him, and very soon,” said Tom in a whisper to his chum, as, with a grim smile on his face, he started toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Sam asked.
“Up there to face them,” was the answer.
“It is nothing short of taking the money the railroad company paid for the land, and using it yourselves,” the lawyer went on. “The money should go to Mr. Taylor’s widow and his son. If I knew him—”