on with the simple comment:--"Well?"

"I do not wish to be understood to ask your legal opinion, although you
probably know that lumber rates have been steadily raised, and if a suit
under that section were successful the Gaylord Lumber Company could
recover a very large sum of money from the Northeastern Railroads," said
Austen. "Having discovered the section, I believe it to be my duty to
call it to the attention of the Gaylords. What I wish to know is, whether
my taking the case would cause you any personal inconvenience or
distress? If so, I will refuse it."

"No," answered the Honourable Hilary, "it won't. Bring suit. Much use
it'll be. Do you expect they can recover under that section?"

"I think it is worth trying," said Austen.

"Why didn't somebody try it before?" asked the Honourable Hilary.

"See here, Judge, I wish you'd let me out of an argument about it. Suit
is going to be brought, whether I bring it or another man. If you would
prefer for any reason that I shouldn't bring it--I won't. I'd much rather
resign as counsel for the Gaylords--and I am prepared to do so."

"Bring suit," answered the Honourable Hilary, quickly, "bring suit by all
means. And now's your time. This seems to be a popular season for
attacking the property which is the foundation of the State's
prosperity." ("Book of Arguments," chapter 3.)

In spite of himself, Austen smiled again. Long habit had accustomed
Hilary Vane to put business considerations before family ties; and this
habit had been the secret of his particular success. And now, rather than
admit by the least sign the importance of his son's discovery of the
statute (which he had had in mind for many years, and to which he had
more than once, by the way, called Mr. Flint's attention), the Honourable
Hilary deliberately belittled the matter as part and parcel of the
political tactics against the Northeastern.

Sears caused by differences of opinion are soon healed; words count for
nothing, and it is the soul that attracts or repels. Mr. Vane was not
analytical, he had been through a harassing day, and he was unaware that
it was not Austen's opposition, but Austen's smile, which set the torch
to his anger. Once, shortly after his marriage, when he had come home in
wrath after a protracted quarrel with Mr. Tredway over the orthodoxy of
the new minister, in the middle of his indignant recital of Mr. Tredway's
unwarranted attitude, Sarah Austen had smiled. The smile had ha