Watching her opportunity Phœbe slipped out of the house unseen and hastened down town to Lawyer Ferguson’s office. The old man was just putting on his hat to go out when the girl’s anxious, pleading face confronted him.
“Are you busy, sir?” she asked, with hesitation.
“Very, my dear. I’m due at an important meeting within five minutes.”
Phœbe’s face fell.
“Anything wrong?” inquired the lawyer in a kindly tone. Phœbe was one of his favorites.
“Oh, a great deal is wrong, sir!” she exclaimed, excitedly. “I’m in great distress, and I’ve—I’ve come to you—for help.”
Judge Ferguson hung his hat on the peg again and went to the door of an inner room.
“Toby!” he called.
“Yes, sir.”
Toby Clark appeared: a frowsy-headed, much freckled youth who served as the lawyer’s clerk. He nodded to Phœbe and looked inquiringly at his master.