“We’ve won that Ryan appeal,” he announced in his deep voice. “Judge Loomis handed down his decision just before court adjourned yesterday. Hear about it, Dan?”
“Yes, sir.”
The judge went on opening his letters, while his young pupil and associate took off his coat, hung it up and sat down at his own desk in his shirt sleeves. He was very pale now and he began to work mechanically, scarcely aware of the older man’s fiery way of disposing of his own business.
“Old man Barbour has kicked up another shindy with Allen,” the judge continued. “I reckon we’ll get that case, too. By the way, did you look up that option for Allen?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Humph!” the judge rubbed his chin and turned his swivel chair slightly. He could see Daniel now sitting at his desk, his white face set and his hands lying idle on a folded sheet of paper. He was staring straight in front of him. The judge prodded again.
“Kenslaw wants you to handle his case. I reckon you’d like that, eh?”
“I suppose so, sir.”
The judge eyed the young man critically.
“What’s the matter, Dan? Got the pip?”