Mr. Schrimpe seemed very confused, as well as angry; but he did not dare to assert himself. Mr. Day held out his hand for the paper the lawyer had given to Mrs. Carringford.
"Just leave it to me, Mrs. Carringford," he said confidently. "I know just what to do. Possibly had I not broken my leg I would have been able to warn you of this."
"Then that Abel Strout is at the root of it, just as I said," she cried.
"Not a doubt of it," replied Mr. Day. "That John Jamison was but a dummy."
"I assure you," began the red-faced lawyer, but Mr. Day interrupted:
"Your assurances would not be accepted before this court, I am afraid, Mr.—ah Schrimpe. Now would you mind, as you are in town, calling upon Mrs. Carringford's legal adviser in regard to this affair?"
I—oh—"
"Oh, Mr. Day!" interjected Mrs. Carringford, "a lawyer's services cost so much."
"This man is my own lawyer," said Mr. Day promptly. "I assure you that he will look into this suit without charging you much, Mrs. Carringford. If Mr. Schrimpe—"
"Oh, if it's not out of my way as I go back to the railroad station," growled the curly haired man.