This was the sign:
Enoch Perkins,
Attorney-at-Law
As a rule, the tramp avoided any person who had any connection with the law, but he was about to pose as a virtuous man returning lost property. Again, a lawyer would know the worth of the paper. At any rate he decided to call upon him and open negotiations.
Mr. Perkins was sitting at his desk making out a conveyance, when he heard a furtive step at the door of his office.
Lifting his eyes, he noticed James Skerrett opening the door, with an apologetic look upon his face. Now, a client was always welcome, for Mr. Perkins was a young man, and his business was as yet limited. But the visitor did not look like a client.
"What do you want, my man?" he asked, rather gruffly.
"Are you a lawyer?"
"Yes; do you want me to make your will?" asked Perkins, smiling.
"Well, no; not at present. I expect to live a little longer."