John was seated at the desk in his office when the captain opened the door. He bowed gravely.
“Take off your hat and coat, Captain,” he said. “Sit down. I'm glad you got my message and came early. I am expecting the other party at any moment.”
Captain Obed was puzzled.
“The other party?” he repeated. “What other party?”
“My—er—well, we'll call him my client. He is on his way here and I may need you—as a witness.”
“Witness? What to?”
“You will see. Now, Captain, if you'll excuse me, I have some papers to arrange. Make yourself as comfortable as you can. I'm sure you won't have to wait long.”
Fifteen minutes later the rasping, arrogant “honk” of a motor horn came from the road outside. Heavy, important steps sounded upon the office platform. The door opened and in came Mr. E. Holliday Kendnick.
Captain Obed had known of the great man's expected arrival, but he had not expected it so early in the day. E. Holliday wore a luxurious fur-lined coat and looked as prosperous and important as ever, but also—so it seemed to the captain—he looked disturbed and puzzled and angry.
The captain rose to his feet and said, “Good morning,” but except for a nod of recognition, his greeting was unanswered. Mr. Kendrick slammed the door behind him, stalked across the office, took a letter from his pocket and threw it down upon his attorney's desk.