The judge smiled grimly.
“The verdict was reached to-day, Johnson. You’re a bit behindhand.” As he spoke he held out his hand. “Congratulations on Dan,” he said heartily. “I’m in a hurry. Want to walk back to my office with me?”
“No!” said Mr. Carter.
He knew what Jessup thought, he suspected him of shaking with suppressed laughter, but the judge looked innocent enough. They shook hands again absently, having forgotten that they had done so twice already, and Mr. Carter strode away. He knew that he was stared at, and he walked fast, his face still deeply red. At the door of his office—he was in the insurance business—he found his office-boy gaping down the street.
Mr. Carter stopped short.
“Here, you! Go into that office!” he said sharply. “What are you doing out there, you young ninny? You’ll be picked up for a street-corner loafer if you don’t mind your own business better!”
The alarmed youth retreated before him, apologizing. Mr. Carter, with his hat still on, strode past the clerks in the outer office, went into his own room, and slammed the door with such force that the glass rattled.
One of the young stenographers looked up from her work and laughed silently at the other.
“Seen his daughter-in-law?” she inquired in a whisper.
The other girl nodded.