caller he
demanded brusquely:

"Well, sir, what can I do for you?"

The man seated himself and glanced around the room before replying. The
big desk, littered with papers, the cabinet files and stiff chairs
seemed to meet his approval. In the outer office a girl was busily
clicking a typewriter.

"You are Colonel Hathaway's lawyer, I believe?" said Jones.

"I have that honor, sir."

"That's why I came to you. The Colonel is a prosperous man and has
judgment. I want your advice about investing some money."

Peter Conant regarded him with a speculative gaze. The thought flashed
through his mind that if Jones had any money to invest he might better
buy himself a new necktie and have his shoes repaired, or even invest
in a new dress for his daughter, who needed it. But he merely said in
his peculiar way of chopping each word off short as he uttered it:

"How much have you to invest?"

"Not a great deal at this moment, but I am I constantly receiving
dividends and interest on my daughter's securities and so, if I am
going to live in Dorfield, I shall need a lawyer to advise me how to
reinvest the money, as well as how to make out the papers properly. I
don't want to make any mistakes and get robbed--even by my lawyer. But
I'll pay you a fair price. Perhaps I should explain that while the
income is derived from my daughter's property the investments are to be
made in my name."

"Why so?"

"The income belongs to me, by my dead wife's will, as long as Alora is
alive and in my keeping. When the girl is eighteen she will manage her
own affairs, and I'll be quit of her--and out of any further income, as
well. So I'm investing now to secure my future."

"I see. How old is your daughter at this time?"

"Fifteen."

"So you've three years more to grab the income."

"Exactly."

"How much money do you wish to invest to-day?"

"Twelve thousand dollars."

Peter Conant sat up straight in his chair.

"And you say this is but part of the income?"

"The estate is valued at nearly two million dollars."

The lawyer gave a low whistle of amazement. Beside this enormous sum,
even Colonel Hathaway's holdings shrank into insignificance.

"You surprise me," he said. "I imagine, then, that you can afford to
live somewhat better than you do."

"That is none of your business."

"True. Good day, Mr. Jones."

"Eh?"

"I won't accept you as a client."

"Why not, sir?"

"Thank you for asking. In the first place, I don'