“I told you you could accomplish nothing by such behavior. Leave the room!”
“Very well, then,” cried the boy wildly, “I will go. But I tell you I will not give up without a fight. I will expose you and denounce you to the world! The people shall know you for what you are—cowards and hypocrites, faithless to your trust! Plunderers of the public! Corrupters of the state!”
“Get out of here, you young villain!” shouted Hickman, advancing with a menace.
And the boy, blazing with fury, pointed his finger straight into his face. “You, Henry Hickman!” he cried. “You are the worst of them all! You, the great lawyer—the eminent statesman! I have been among the lowest—I have been with saloon keepers and criminals—with publicans and harlots and thieves—but never yet have I met a man as merciless and as hard as you! You a Christian—you might be the Roman soldier who spat in Jesus' face!”
And with that last thunderbolt Samuel turned and went out, slamming the door with a terrific bang in the great lawyer's face.
For at least a couple of hours Samuel paced the streets of Lockmanville, to let his rage and grief subside. And then he went home, and to his astonishment found that Sophie Stedman had been waiting up for him all this while.
She listened breathlessly to the story of his evening's adventures. Then she said, “I have been trying to do something, too.”
“What have you done?” he asked.
“I went to see little Ethel,” she replied.
“Ethel Vince!” he gasped.