I had taken up the matter merely out of good nature, but the old man was a character, and I soon became interested in his personality.
For two years he had been a regular visitor at my office, ostensibly to make inquiries as to the progress of his law suit, but really, I think, for social recreation. A litigation does not advance very rapidly in a New York Court for the first two years, and he knew this at the outset, but his calls were made with a regularity which suggested routine. If he chanced to come in while I was busy he never interrupted, but sat in the outer offices chatting with the clerks until such time as he judged his social duty had been discharged.
Clancy’s confidence in me was certainly gratifying, but it took the form of completely transferring to my shoulders all responsibility for the case. His attitude toward it was that of a friend interested but not especially involved in the outcome. Whenever he referred to it, which was not often, he spoke of it as “yur kase,” as though he had washed his hands of it but wished me well. There was no question about his gratitude, but his idea of expressing this was to put himself wholly in my care and give as little trouble as possible.
I once thought that the possession of another’s confidence was a proper matter for self-congratulation, but I have never felt quite the same about this since I finished Clancy’s case.
Michael’s injuries had completely incapacitated him for work and his massive frame had taken on flesh until the ponderous body made his head appear ridiculously small. His clean-shaven face was round, his eyes were almost tiny, and his mouth was like that of a child.
Although loquacious to a degree, his delivery was slow, and whenever he talked to me his every word was accompanied by an apologetic smile, so that even when he spoke of his troubles his cheeks wore a “permanent puff.”
“Have you ever been in a court, Michael?” I asked as Clancy sat by my desk smiling his benedictions upon my news of an early trial.
“Oi hov not, Sorr—leastways not since Dolan’s Nannie wuz afther bein’ kilt be Beagan’s pup.”
I did not investigate Clancy’s experience in that cause célèbre, although I saw reminiscence in his eye.
“I think we better go over your testimony, Clancy,” I said. “It’s two years since the accident occurred and you may have forgotten details—I’m sure I have. But you remember making this affidavit at the time—do you not?”