myself--"

The lawyer had risen from his chair. "Oh, Mr. Dennison Grant! I'm so
glad--"

Grant ignored the outstretched hand. "I'm exactly the same man who came
into your office five minutes ago, and you were too busy to raise
your eyes from your papers. It is not me to whom you are now offering
courtesy; it's to my money."

"I am sure I beg your pardon. I didn't know--"

"Then you will know in future. If you've got a hand on you, stick it
out, whether your visitor has any money or not."

Grant was glaring at the lawyer across the desk, and the
pugnacious-looking moustache was beginning to bristle back.

"Did you come in here to read me a lecture, or to get legal advice?" the
lawyer returned with some spirit.

"I came in here on business. In the course of that business I find it
necessary to tell you where you get off at, and to ask you what you're
going to do about it."

The lawyer came around from behind his desk. "And I'll show you," he
said, very curtly. "You've been drinking, or you're out of your head.
In either case I'm going to put you out of this room until you are in a
different frame of mind."

"Hop to it!" said Grant, bracing himself. Jones was an oldish man,
and he had no intention of hurting him. In a moment they clenched, and
before Grant could realize what was happening he was on his back.

He arose quickly, laughing, and sat down in a chair. "Mr. Jones, will
you sit down? I want to talk to you."

"If you will talk business. You were rude to me."

"Perhaps. For my rudeness I apologize. But I was not untruthful. And I
wanted to find something out. I found it."

"What?"

"Whether you had any sand in you. You have, and considerable muscle, or
knack, as well. I'm not saying you could do it again--"

"Well, what is this all about?"

"Simply this. If I am to manage the business of Grant & Son I shall need
legal advice of the highest order, and I want it from a man with red
blood in him--I should be afraid of any other advice. What is your
price? You understand, you leave this firm and think of nothing,
professionally, but what I pay you for."

Mr. Jones had seated himself, and the pugnacious moustache was settling
back into a less hostile attitude.

"You are quite serious?"

"Quite. You see, I know nothing about business. It is true I spent some
time in my father's office, but I never had much heart for it. I
went west to get away from it. Fate has forced it back upon my hands.
Well-