Our fathers appeared staid at six and thirty.Clothes,of course,made some difference,and my class and generation did not wear the sombre and cumbersome kind,with skirts and tails;I patronized a tailor in New York.My chestnut hair,a little darker than my father's had been,showed no signs of turning grey,although it was thinning a little at the crown of the forehead,and I wore a small moustache,clipped in a straight line above the mouth.This made me look less like a college youth.Thanks to a strong pigment in my skin,derived probably from Scotch-Irish ancestors,my colour was fresh.I have spoken of my life as feverish,and yet I am not so sure that this word completely describes it.It was full to overflowing--one side of it;and I did not miss (save vaguely,in rare moments of weariness)any other side that might have been developed.I was busy all day long,engaged in affairs I deemed to be alone of vital importance in the universe.I was convinced that the welfare of the city demanded that supreme financial power should remain in the hands of the group of men with whom I was associated,and whose battles I fought in the courts,in the legislature,in the city council,and sometimes in Washington,--although they were well cared for there.
By every means ingenuity could devise,their enemies were to be driven from the field,and they were to be protected from blackmail.
A sense of importance sustained me;and I remember in that first flush of a success for which I had not waited too long--what a secret satisfaction it was to pick up the Era and see my name embedded in certain dignified notices of board meetings,transactions of weight,or cases known to the initiated as significant."Mr.Scherer's interests were taken care of by Mr.Hugh Paret."The fact that my triumphs were modestly set forth gave me more pleasure than if they had been trumpeted in headlines.Although I might have started out in practice for myself,my affection and regard for Mr.Watling kept me in the firm,which became Watling,Fowndes and Paret,and a new,arrangement was entered into:Mr.Ripon retired on account of ill health.
There were instances,however,when a certain amount of annoying publicity was inevitable.Such was the famous Galligan case,which occurred some three or four years after my marriage.Aloysius Galligan was a brakeman,and his legs had become paralyzed as the result of an accident that was the result of defective sills on a freight car.He had sued,and been awarded damages of $15,000.To the amazement and indignation of Miller Gorse,the Supreme Court,to which the Railroad had appealed,affirmed the decision.It wasn't the single payment of $15,000that the Railroad cared about,of course;a precedent might be established for compensating maimed employees which would be expensive in the long run.Carelessness could not be proved in this instance.Gorse sent for me.I had been away with Maude at the sea for two months,and had not followed the case.
"You've got to take charge,Paret,and get a rehearing.See Bering,and find out who in the deuce is to blame for this.Chesley's one,of course.We ought never to have permitted his nomination for the Supreme Bench.It was against my judgment,but Varney and Gill assured me that he was all right."I saw Judge Bering that evening.We sat on a plush sofa in the parlour of his house in Baker Street.
"I had a notion Gorse'd be mad,"he said,"but it looked to me as if they had it on us,Paret.I didn't see how we could do anything else but affirm without being too rank.Of course,if he feels that way,and you want to make a motion for a rehearing,I'll see what can be done.""Something's got to be done,"I replied."Can't you see what such a decision lets them in for?""All right,"said the judge,who knew an order when he heard one,"Iguess we can find an error."He was not a little frightened by the report of Mr.Gorse's wrath,for election-day was approaching."Say,you wouldn't take me for a sentimental man,now,would you?"I smiled at the notion of it.
"Well,I'll own up to you this kind of got under my skin.That Galligan is a fine-looking fellow,if there ever was one,and he'll never be of a bit of use any more.Of course the case was plain sailing,and they ought to have had the verdict,but that lawyer of his handled it to the queen's taste,if I do say so.He made me feel real bad,by God,--as if it was my own son Ed who'd been battered up.Lord,I can't forget the look in that man Galligan's eyes.I hate to go through it again,and reverse it,but I guess I'll have to,now."The Judge sat gazing at the flames playing over his gas log.
"Who was the lawyer?"I asked.
"A man by the name of Krebs,"he replied."Never heard of him before.
He's just moved to the city."
"This city?"I ejaculated.
The Judge glanced at me interestedly.
"This city,of course.What do you know about him?""Well,"I answered,when I had recovered a little from the shock--for it was a distinct shock--"he lived in Elkington.He was the man who stirred up the trouble in the legislature about Bill 709."The Judge slapped his knee.
"That fellow!"he exclaimed,and ruminated."Why didn't somebody tell me?"he added,complainingly."Why didn't Miller Gorse let me know about it,instead of licking up a fuss after it's all over?"...
