By GASTON GARNE
(A Serial Story)
[CHAPTER I.—(continued)]
And then the busy lawyer caught up his satchel and started out of the office to catch his train. Lew opened the bundle of papers, and was soon studying them hard.
He had tried minor court cases, but had never had one in the supreme court, and he felt that it was rather unkind of fate that the first one that came to him to try in the upper court was regarded by even his shrewd employer as quite hopeless. However, he bent himself to the task, reflecting over the one saving point of the week that Smollett had worked, and trying to decide just how to make that fact effective.
Just as he had made up his mind what course to pursue about it, the telephone rang, and he was notified that the case was called and that the office boy had answered ready.
Stuffing the papers in his pocket, Lew walked over to the courthouse, thinking deeply over the idea that had come into his mind. He got there just as the jury box was filled, and eyed them narrowly while the counsel for the plaintiff was examining them. It looked like a good sensible jury to him, and he made but two objections to the men in the box.
The jury was sworn and the case opened.