Nine o'clock is an early hour for a New York lawyer of prominence to be at his place of business. Yet, when Captain Elisha asked the office boy of Sylvester, Kuhn and Graves if the senior partner was in, he received an affirmative answer.
"Yes, sir," said Tim, respectfully. His manner toward the captain had changed surprisingly since the latter's first call. "Yes, sir;Mr. Sylvester's in. He expects you. I'll tell him you're here.
Sit down and wait, please."
Captain Elisha sat down, but he did not have to wait long. The boy returned at once and ushered him into the private office.
Sylvester welcomed him gravely.
"You got my message, then," he said. "I spent hours last evening chasing you by 'phone. And I was prepared to begin again this morning.""So? That's why you're on deck so early? Didn't sleep here, did you? Well, I cal'late I know what you want to talk about. You ain't the only one that reads the newspapers.""The newspapers? Great heavens! it isn't in the newspapers, is it?
It can't be!"
He seemed much perturbed. Captain Elisha looked puzzled.
"Course it is," he said. "But I heard it afore I saw it. Perhaps you think I take it pretty easy. Maybe I act as if I did. But you expected it, and so did I, so we ain't exactly surprised. And,"seriously, "I realize that it's no joke as well as you do. But we've got a year to fight in, and now we must plan the campaign.
I did cal'late to see Caroline this mornin'. Then, if I heard from her own lips that 'twas actually so, I didn't know's I wouldn't drop in and give Sister Corcoran-Queen-Victoria-Dunn a few plain facts about it not bein' a healthy investment to hurry matters.
You're wantin' to see me headed me off, and I come here instead."The lawyer looked at him in astonishment.
"See here, Captain Warren," he demanded, "what do you imagine Iasked you to come here for?"
"Why, to talk about that miserable engagement, sartin. Poor girl!
I've been awake ha'f the night thinkin' of the mess she's been led into. And she believes she's happy, I suppose."Sylvester shook his head. "I see," he said, slowly. "You would think it that, naturally. No, Captain, it isn't the engagement.
It's more serious than that."
"More serious than--MORE serious! Why, what on earth? Hey? Mr.
Sylvester, has that rock-lighthouse business come to somethin'
after all?"
The lawyer nodded. "It has," he replied.
"I want to know! And I'd almost forgot it, not hearin' from you.
It's a rock, too, I judge, by the looks of your face. Humph! . . .
Is it very bad?"
"I'm afraid so."
The captain pulled his beard. "Well," he said, wearily, after a moment, "I guess likely I can bear it. I've had to bear some things in my time. Anyhow, I'll try. Heave ahead and get it over with. I'm ready."Instead of answering, Sylvester pushed an electric button on his desk. The office boy answered the ring.
"Have Mr. Kuhn and Mr. Graves arrived?" asked the lawyer.
"Yes, sir. Both of them, sir."
"Tell them Captain Warren is here, and ask them to join us in the inner room. Remind Mr. Graves to bring the papers. And, Tim, remember that none of us is to be disturbed. Do you understand?""Yes, sir," said Tim and departed.
Captain Elisha regarded his friend with some dismay.
"Say!" he exclaimed, "this MUST be serious, if it takes the skipper and both mates to handle it."Sylvester did not smile. "It is," he answered. "Come."He led the way into the room opening from the rear of his own. It was a large apartment with a long table in the center. Mr. Kuhn, brisk and business-like, was already there. He shook hands with his client. As he did so, Graves, dignified and precise as ever, entered, carrying a small portfolio filled with papers.
"Mornin', Mr. Graves," said the captain; "glad to see you, even under such distressin' circumstances, as the undertaker said to the sick man. Feelin' all right again, I hope. No more colds or nothin' like that?""No. Thank you. I am quite well, at present.""That's hearty. If you and me don't do any more buggy ridin' in Cape Cod typhoons, we'll last a spell yet, hey? What you got there, the death warrant?" referring to the portfolio and its contents.
Mr. Graves evidently did not consider this flippancy worth a reply, for he made none.
"Sit down, gentlemen," said Sylvester.
The four took chairs at the table. Graves untied and opened the portfolio. Captain Elisha looked at his solemn companions, and his lips twitched.
"You'll excuse me," he observed, "but I feel as if I was goin' to be tried for piracy on the high seas. Has the court any objection to tobacco smoke? I'm puttin' the emphasis strong on the 'tobacco,'"he added, "because this is a cigar you give me yourself, Mr.
Sylvester, last time I was down here."
"No, indeed," replied the senior partner. "Smoke, if you wish. No one here has any objection, unless it may be Graves.""Oh, Mr. Graves ain't. He and I fired up together that night we fust met. Hot smoke tasted grateful after all the cold water we'd had poured onto us in that storm. Graves is all right. He's a sportin' character, like myself. Maybe he'll jine us. Got another cigar in my pocket."But the invitation was declined. The "sporting character" might deign to relax amid proper and fitting surroundings, but not in the sacred precincts of his office. So the captain smoked alone.
"Well," he observed, after a few preliminary puffs, "go on! Don't keep me in suspenders, as the feller said. Where did the lightnin'
strike, and what's the damage?"
Sylvester took a card from his pocket and referred to a penciled memorandum on its back.
