He became an Office Lawyer of the dull gray Variety with a special
Aptitude for drawing up Leases and examining Abstracts.
He could not face a Jury or fight a Case because the fond Parents had put the Sign on him and robbed him of all his Gimp.
But a Nice Fellow?
You know it.
Any one who had a Book to sell, or a Petition to be signed, or a Note that needed endorsing came dashing right into Edgar's Office and hailed him as the Champion Patsy.
Not one of these ever ventured into the Lair of the Street Railway Czar, for he knew that Rufus might jump over the Mahogany Table and bite him in the Arm.
Even Edgar, when he made a Business Call on Boyhood Friend and loving Classmate, was permitted to wait in the Outer Room, resting his Hat on his knees, and mingling on terms of Equality with the modish Typist and the scornful Secretary.
And when they went away to look at some Properties, Rufus took the
Stateroom while Edgar drew an Upper.
Every one at the Club referred to Edgar as a Good Old Scout, but when all the Push gathered at the Round Table and some one let fall the Name of the High-Binder, they would open up on Rufus and Pan him to a Whisper.
Then Rufus would enter in his Fur Coat, upsetting Furniture and
Servants as he swept through the Lounging Room.