“Certainly,” said the lawyer.
“Well,” said Bill, casting his eyes knowingly at the attorney—“you got Bob into the pound, and you know how to get him out: set a thief to ketch a thief, as we say—no offence, Mister. ‘The hair of the same dog’—you understand!’ Now, as I said, you got Robert into the jug, and you know how to get him out. You was the lawyer of the city to get him into prison—will you be my lawyer to get him out of the prison?”
“Of course, if I am paid.”
“And what is your fee?”
“Twenty dollars.”
“Whew! what did you charge for getting Bob into jail?”
“The same.”
“Well, what a queer trade this of yours is! Twenty dollars for a job, whether it’s to imprison the innocent, or to release the innocent! It’s a beautiful trade—an honest trade—and, besides, it’s profitable! It works both ways; twenty dollars for doing wrong, twenty dollars for doing right! twenty dollars for justice, twenty dollars for injustice! Fegs! I should like to be a lawyer myself! But to business. I will pay you what you ax, if you’ll get Robert out of jail.”
“You must pay down!”
“No, no; he’s a good customer that pays when the work is done.”