esent the evidence
at our command--if we can get it. And, by God! we will get it if
it costs us ten thousand dollars! Why, Quib, the thing is a
windfall. Thirty-five thousand! Why, thirty-five _hundred_ for
such a case would be a big fee!"

"I don't know!" I answered, for I felt a curious premonition in
the matter. "Something tells me that we ought to take no chances."

"Come, come!" quoth Gottlieb, with a light show of irritation.
"Don't lose your nerve. You've done many a worse thing than this,
to my own knowledge!"

I do not pretend to any virtue in the matter and yet I must admit
to some feelings of compunction about Mrs. Dillingham. Truth to
tell, I had taken a strong dislike to her husband, with his sleek
confidence and cold-blooded selfishness. In addition, I was quite
sure that there was some other fell reason why he wished to divorce
her--probably he had another marriage in contemplation, even if he
had not admitted it.

"I wish we could make the beggar do his own dirty work," I
exclaimed.

"But what does he pay us for?" inquired Gottlieb innocently. "Quib,
just think of the money!"

I had, in fact, been thinking of the money, and it looked very good
to me. Since my days in Haight & Foster's law office, a great,
great change had come in my manner of life; and, though my friends
to a great extent remained among the theatrical and sporting class
to which I had received my first introduction on coming to New
York, I now occupied a large brick house with stone trimmings in
Washington Square, where I entertained in truly luxurious fashion.
I had a French cook and an English butler, and drove a pair of
trotters that were second to none except those of William H.
Vanderbilt, with whom I had many a fast brush on the speedways.

Though I had never allowed myself to be caught in the net of
matrimony, I had many friends among the fair sex, particularly
among those who graced the footlights; and some of my evening
parties did not break up until dawn was glinting over the roofs of
the respectable mansions round about me. It was a gay life, but
it cost money--almost more money than I could make; and my share
in the thirty-five thousand dollars offered by our friend Dillingham
would go a long way to keeping up my establishment for another
year. So I allowed my qualms to give me no further uneasiness and
told myself that Gottlieb was clever enough to manage the business
in such a fashion that there would