the
interests of my property than this sorry turn-out. Get the best equipment
which can be obtained for money."

The agent, not knowing whether he was touched the more by the kindness
of the injunction, or by the delicacy with which it had been expressed,
murmured incoherent thanks, and promised speedy compliance with his
employer's commands.

CHAPTER XXII.

"THE GOLDEN SHOEMAKER" INSTRUCTS HIS LAWYERS.

"Cobbler" Horn reached London early the same evening, and the following
morning, at the appointed hour, duly presented himself at the office of
Messrs. Tongs and Ball. He was received with enthusiasm by the men of
law. Long Mr. Ball was, as usual, the chief speaker; and round Mr. Tongs
yielded meek and monosyllabic assent to all his partner's words.

"And how are you by this time, my dear sir?" asked Mr. Ball, almost
affectionately, when they had taken their seats.

"Cobbler" Horn had a vague impression that the lawyer was asking his
question on behalf of his partner as well as of himself.

"Thank you, gentlemen," was his cordial reply. "I am thankful to say I
never was better in my life; and I hope I find you the same?"

"Thank you, my dear sir," answered Mr. Ball, "speaking for self and
partner, I think I may say that we are well."

"Yes," said Mr. Tongs.

"But," resumed Mr. Ball, turning to the table, "your time is precious,
Mr. Horn. Shall we proceed?"

"If you please, gentlemen."

"Very well," said the lawyer, taking up a bundle of papers; "these are the
letters relating to the case of your unfortunate cousin. Shall I give you
their contents in due order, Mr. Horn?"

"If you please," and "Cobbler" Horn composed himself to listen, with a
grave face.

The letters were from the agents of Messrs. Tongs and Ball in New York;
and the information they conveyed was to the effect that "Cobbler" Horn's
scapegrace cousin had been traced to a poor lodging-house in that city,
where he was slowly dying of consumption. He might last for months, but
it was possible he would not linger more than a few weeks.

"Cobbler" Horn listened to the reading of the letters with head down-bent.
When it was finished, he looked up.

"Thank you, gentlemen," he said; "have you done anything?"

Mr. Ball gazed at his client through his spectacles, over the top of the
last of the letters, which he still held open in his hand, and there was
gentle expostulation in his eye.

"Our i