 | CHAPTER XIII.
THAT. A woman in armor |  |
13. CHAPTER XIII.
THAT.
MYRON D. CHANCERY had an excited
client.
It was a crisp November morning.
G. Guest, Esq., breakfasted early, enjoyed his
cigar, and called for a carriage.
As he sauntered down the steps of the great
hotel to take his seat in this, passing urchins regarded
with awe his portly presence, his full
chin, the graceful smoke curling about his waxed
mustaches. Perhaps they wondered if the
wheel of fortune would ever raise them to become
such great nabobs!
He bullied the waiters about his baggage;
he bullied the cabby about the carriage; and
when he had asserted his importance to his own
satisfaction he drove to the house of Helen
Dimmock.
Leaning easily back against the cushions and
turning a fresh cigar between his teeth, he sent
the black driver to ring the bell and call for
Master George Guest.
The black driver rung. G. Guest, Esq., contemplated
the house front and smiled. He took
off his hat and dusted the crêpe on it—the while
he ceased not smiling. The black driver rung
again. G. Guest, Esq., became impatient and
spoke some impressive words to him, upon
which the black driver rung the third time.
The door was opened timidly, and Rikka
peered around it to gape at the black driver,
who made known his errand.
“Come, make haste there!” cried G. Guest,
Esq. “Tell Miss Dimmock I am waiting!”
“Gone!” shouted Rikka excitedly. “Her
and Mr. George Guest gone! Last night—stay
to church!”
“None of your nonsense, now!” exclaimed
G. Guest, Esq., angrily, leaping out and coming
up the steps. “Where are they?”
Suspicion of the truth at once flashed over
him; he was furious with himself for not foreseeing
it and trapping her.
At once he gave Helen Dimmock the same
motives which moved him, and he believed she
meant to contest in the courts for the possession
of the child.
He gathered from the bewildered German girl
how George and Helen left home the evening
before. Then, turning his horses' heads, he
dashed to police headquarters and set a detective
force on her track.
Next, determined to be ready for her when
legal talent in the country on his side, he rushed
in upon Myron D. Chancery, mopping his
brows and roused to as high a pitch as his phlegmatic
temperament could reach.
Thus it came to pass that Myron D. Chancery
had an excited client.
Before he had spoken a dozen words Mr.
Chancery knew him. This was his man. There
he stood, as if evolved from the lawyer's mind.
But with courtesy and no emotion he jotted
down the violent statements of G. Guest, Esq.
G. Guest, Esq., had no reservations with his
lawyer. In his mind money was the motive
power of the world. If he applied this power
to his lawyer his lawyer would move for him.
It was not in him to perceive that a man may
have a certain cold love for the blind woman,
Justice, and for tracing out rights and seeing
them established.
Mr. Chancery had This in his hand before.
Now he had That. He put this and that together,
while G. Guest, Esq., raged at his side,
breathing out wrath and threatenings.
After his client left him he wrote letters busily.
You would not have guessed, had you watched
his quiet lips, his placid, middle-aged forehead,
that he was like a deer-hound sweeping along in
chase with a clue which filled him with satisfaction.
| CHAPTER XIII.
THAT. A woman in armor | |