A shadow flitted across Earle’s handsome face at these remarks, but it soon passed, and, still smiling, he returned:
“I pretend to no superior attributes; I was a poor boy, without home or friends, until Mr. Forrester took me in and gave me the benefit of his knowledge and instruction. I have been unfortunate also since then, as you very well know, and when you came to me to take charge of this case, I was well-nigh discouraged.”
“I knew it—I knew it; but I knew also that the true grit was in you. I saw it in the Galgren case, and I’ve watched you since. Besides,” with a shrewd look up into the handsome face, “I knew hungry dogs always work hardest for a bone, and they seldom fail to get it, too; that’s one reason I brought you my case, and I’m proud of the result.”
“Thank you, sir,” Earle said, laughing at the simile of the hungry dog. “I am glad that your confidence was not misplaced, and I congratulate you upon our success—it gives you a very handsome fortune.”
“Yes, yes; a decent bit of property, I’ll admit; but how much of it are you going to want?”
Earle colored at his way of putting this question; it seemed to him a trifle surly and ungrateful after his hard work.
“I trust not more than is right, sir; but we will talk of this another time, if you please,” he said, with dignity.
The little man chuckled to himself, as, slipping his arm familiarly within Earle’s, he drew him one side.
“How much do you want? Remember, it takes a good deal to pay for a pound of desk, and you’ve lost a good many since I came to you that night four months ago,” he persisted.
Earle saw that the man was really kind at heart, and meant well by him in spite of his unprepossessing manner.