“Well, Henry–she’s all right, ain’t she? Just some legal formality to go through, I suppose?”
Henry Fenn took the document from Bowman’s hand. Henry stood under the electric, read it and sat thinking for a few seconds, with widely furious eyes.
“Well,” he said, “they’ve played their trump, boys. Doc Jim–your law’s been attacked in the federal court–under Tom Van Dorn–damn him!”
The group barked a common question in many voices. Fenn replied: “As I make it out, they got a New York stockholder of the Wahoo Valley Fuel Company to ask for an injunction against paying little Ben his money to-morrow, and the temporary injunction has been granted with the hearing set for June 16.”
“And won’t they pay us without a suit?” asked Bowman. “Why, I don’t see how that can be–they’ve been paying for accidents for a year now.”
“Why, the law’s through all the courts!” queried Brotherton.
“The state courts–yes,” answered Fenn, “but they didn’t own the federal court until they got Tom in.”
Bowman’s jaw began to tremble. His Adam’s apple bobbed like a cork, and no one spoke. Finally Dr. Nesbit spoke in his high-keyed voice: “I presume legal verbiage is all they talk in hell!” and sat pondering.
“Is there no way to beat it?” asked Brotherton.
“Not in this court, George,” replied Fenn, “that’s why they brought suit in this court.”