“No other lawyer would undertake the case at any price. It will make me very unpopular to prosecute Toby Clark.”
“You’re not much of a favorite now,” said Mrs. Ritchie. “Very well, I’ll give you a hundred dollars.”
“I’m not going to undertake that trial for nothing, Mrs. Ritchie. If you want Toby Clark imprisoned for stealing your box you’ve got to pay handsomely for it.”
“I want two hundred to-day. A hundred for recovering your property and a hundred in advance for the trial.”
She dropped her hoe and stared at him. Then she sighed.
“Come into the house. You’re a scoundrel, Abner Kellogg, and you ain’t earned half the money; but I’ll be generous.”
“No; you’ll be sensible,” he said, following her up the path. “You’ve got some secret that’s worth money to you, Mrs. Ritchie, and which you don’t care to have discovered; and it’s connected with Toby Clark.”
“That’s a lie.”