"This is a retainer, Mr. Witheridge, that I cannot very well refuse. You see," he was smiling now, "I know his daughter."
IX
Ten men crowded into the office of Assistant District Attorney Leech, ten men of various sizes and complexions, ten men upon whom sat undoubted respectability, and yet in whose eyes gleamed a gnawing anxiety—a strange excitement.
A deputy assistant district attorney—or a d. a. d. a., as they call them there, received the delegation coldly.
"What in thunder is this mob doing here?" he asked.
The ten men nodded toward their spokesman; he leaned against the d. a. d. a.'s desk.
"Chief clerk sent us here," he said.
"What about?" asked his cross-examiner.
The spokesman drew from his pocket a folded paper and opened it wide for the other to read.