This morning my head hurts--hurts me to
think--"

"Perhaps," said Gaylor, "you'd prefer that I talked to your niece."

"No!" exclaimed the invalid excitedly. "I want to see her myself. I want
to tell her, once and for all--" He checked himself and frowned at the
Doctor. "You needn't wait," he said. "And Doctor," he added meaningly,
"after these people go, you come back."

With a conscious glance at the Judge, Rainey nodded and left them.

"No," continued the old man; "I want to talk to my niece myself. But I
don't want to talk to Winthrop. He's too clever a young man, Winthrop.
In the merger case, you remember--had me on the stand for three hours.
Made me talk too." The mind of the old man suddenly veered at a tangent.
"How the devil can Helen retain him?" he demanded peevishly. "She can't
retain him. She hasn't any money. And he's District Attorney too. It's
against the law. Is he doing it as a speculation? Does he want to marry
her?"

Judge Gaylor laughed soothingly.

"Heavens, no!" he said. "She's in his office, that's all. When she
took this craze to be independent of you, he gave her a position as
secretary, or as stenographer, or something. She's probably told him her
story, her side of it, and he's helping her out of charity." The Judge
smiled tolerantly. "He does that sort of thing, I believe."

The old man struck the library table with his palm. "I wish he'd mind
his own business," he cried. "It's my money. She has no claim to it,
never had any claim--"

The Judge interrupted quickly.

"That's all right, Stephen; that's all right," he said. "Don't excite
yourself. Just get what you're to say straight in your mind and stick to
it. Remember," he went on, as though coaching a child in a task already
learned, "there never was a written agreement.

"No!" muttered Hallowell. "Never was!"

"Repeat this to yourself," commanded the Judge. "The understanding
between you and your brother-in-law was that if you placed his patent
on the market, for the first five years you would share the profits
equally. After the five years, all rights in the patent became yours. It
was unfortunate," commented the Judge dryly, "that your brother-in-law
and your sister died before the five years were up, especially as
the patent did not begin to make money until after five years.
Remember--until after five years."

"Until after five years," echoed Mr. Hallowell. "It was over six years,"
he went on excitedly, "before it made