Henry Porter knew he was a fool to give away his case to the opposition, but the President's eyes and manner were too compelling for him.
"My daughter says so and—and I've seen enough myself, and besides that he has written letters to her. I reckon we've got evidence enough all right."
"Well, I have evidence that there is not a word of it true, and I sent for you to tell you you'd better drop it. You'll find it a profitless—more than that—a very expensive undertaking."
The last statement was unfortunate. It struck fire in Old Henry's pet vanity.
"Oh, I guess I can stan' the expense all right," he rejoined with the oddest possible mixture of deference and defiance.
"You can, can you!" said Mr. Phillips sharply, his anger beginning to redden. "But I tell you again you can't get a verdict from the courts—no, sir, not for a cent—so what's the use?"
"I don't need the money." ... Clearly Mr. Phillips had given the purse-proud old darkey the wrong cue.
"Then what the devil are you after?"
"That young nig—young man is mos' too sassy. He's got to know his place."
"His place!" Mr. Phillips' face was again twisted in wrath. But wrath could not serve Helen's cause. He stifled it.