Hezekiah was trying to catch Obadiah’s eye. “It is going to cost you some money,” he explained. “I warned you that young people have no idea of the value of money. Remember, you authorized me to make the best settlement that I could,” he sternly reminded the mill owner.
Obadiah shrugged his shoulders irritably. “Yes, I am bound by any nonsensical agreement you have made.”
The attorney’s voice was cold, and there was a glint of steel in his eyes as he answered, “If you don’t care to accept the compromise for which I accept sole responsibility, it is your privilege to reject it and take–the consequences.”
Obadiah leaped to his feet and rushing to his lawyer patted him upon the shoulder. “Don’t be so touchy, Hezekiah,” he exclaimed. “Have I ever failed to support you?”
“No,” Hezekiah admitted, “and you never will–but once.”
Obadiah was desirous of placating his counsel. “You misunderstand me.”
“I probably understand you better than any one else on earth.”
The remark made the manufacturer uncomfortable. “Forget it,” he pleaded. “I agree to any arrangement which you have made, because of my friendship, if for no other reason.” He shook the lawyer’s hand. “Explain the agreement. I consent.”
Hezekiah’s manner was too calm. It was like the lull before a storm. “You pay no money to the injured man,” he announced.
Obadiah’s face registered his surprise. “What the devil?” he cried.