th his head on the old wooden
table, and planned what he should do with Flukey, leaving it to the
brilliant-eyed lawyer to dicker with Lem for Flea.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Horace Shellington took a long breath as he entered his office one
morning in the latter part of March. The blustering wind that had raged
all night had almost subsided, and he felt glad for Floyd's sake; for,
no matter how warm they kept the little lad, the sound of the wind
through the trees and the dismal wail of the branches at night made him
shiver and fret with nervous pain. Horace had scarcely seated himself
when Everett Brimbecomb entered the room.

"Hello, Horace!" said the latter jovially. "I was going to come in
yesterday, but was not quite ready to see you. Haven't been able to get
a word with you in several days."

Horace offered a chair, and Everett sank into it.

"You are always so busy when I run in to see Ann," Brimbecomb went on,
"that one would think you were not an inmate of that house."

"Yes," said Horace, "I've been studying up on an interesting case I
expect to handle very soon."

Everett laughed.

"So have I," he said, narrowing his lids and looking at Shellington.

"When one is connected with offices as we are, Everett," remarked Horace
uninterestedly, "there is little time for visiting."

"I find that, too," replied Everett.

During the last few weeks Horace had seen little of his sister's fiance;
in fact, since their quarrel he had drawn away from the young man as a
companion; but above everything else he desired his gentle sister to be
happy, and the man before him was the only one to make her so. He
thought of this, and smiled a little more cordially as he said:

"Is there anything I can do for you, Everett?"

"Well, yes, there is," admitted Brimbecomb.

"I'll do anything I can," replied Horace heartily.

Brimbecomb hesitated before going on. Shellington looked so grave, so
dignified, so much more manly than he had ever seen him, that he
scarcely dared open his subject.

"It's something that may touch you at first, Horace," he explained;
"but--"

Horace, unsuspicious, bent forward encouragingly:

"Go ahead," he said.

Everett flushed and looked at the floor.

"A case has just come into our office, and, as my father is gone from
home, I have taken it on."

Horace listened expectantly. Everett could have struck the man in the
face, he hated him so deeply. He groaned mentally as he thought o