"I haven't, Mr. Harwood. Let me see. It was of you Professor Sumner wrote me last year; he's an old friend of mine. He said he thought you had a sinewy mind—a strong phrase for Sumner."
"He never told me that," said Dan, laughing. "He several times implied quite the reverse."
"He's a great man—Sumner. I suppose you absorbed a good many of his ideas at New Haven."
"I hope I did, sir: I believe in most of them anyhow."
"So do I, Mr. Harwood."
Fitch pointed to a huge pile of manuscript on a table by the window. It was a stenographic transcript of testimony in a case which had been lost in the trial court and was now going up on appeal.
"Digest that evidence and give me the gist of it in not more than five hundred words. That's all."
Harwood's hand was on the door when Fitch arrested him with a word.
"To recur to this private transaction between us, you have not the remotest idea what was in that letter, and nothing was said in the interview that gave you any hint—is that entirely correct?"
"Absolutely."