gnity of the firm we must protect ourselves----"

"I believe you mean it, and the Judge gave you authority to say it."

"We must go through the form of protecting ourselves and----"

His client laughed. "You don't mean the Judge wants to take over the
house. That's 'Way Down East stuff. If money's tight with him, we'll pay
the interest and manage some way, though I don't see how. But the house
would be no good to him if he took it, and he wouldn't take it if it
was. I know the Judge. Don't let your imagination get away with you,
Theodore."

"I'm sorry for you, Donovan."

"You think he's going to take it?"

"I know he is."

"You mean that," his client decided slowly, "and you've got the Judge's
authority for it, too."

"Take it quietly. It's the best way," urged the junior partner
helpfully.

"I understand that's your motto, Theodore," said his client, and
proceeded to take his advice, sitting quite still in the Judge's big
chair, and fixing a clear-seeing but unappreciative gaze upon the
immaculate folds of Mr. Burr's turquoise-blue tie. He took the advice
too literally. The silence grew oppressive and sinister, and as if he
found it so, Mr. Burr broke into a monologue, disjointed, but made up
of irreproachable sentiments.

"This is hard on your uncle, Neil, and it's hard on you, but it may be
the best thing in the end. He's been hiding behind you too long. A
business that can't stand on its own feet deserves to fail. He can start
new and start clean. The Judge has been a good friend to you----"

"Don't explain him to me. You don't own him, whoever else does,"
interrupted the Judge's protege softly.

"What do you mean? If you don't think you're getting a square deal, say
so."

"Do you want me to weep on your shoulder, Theodore?"

"The Judge is your friend, and," Mr. Burr added handsomely, "I'm your
friend, too."

His client arose briskly, as if encouraged by this. "Theodore, you don't
want to tell me what's back of your turning me down?" he asked. "No, I
thought not. Well----"

"I'm your friend," repeated Mr. Burr, generously if irrelevantly, and
this time without effect. His client had crossed the room without
another glance at him, and had his hand on the knob of the Judge's
office door. His manner still had the composure which Mr. Burr had
advocated, but his face was very pale, ominously pale, and his brown
eyes were changed and bright, dangerously bright. To imaginative eyes
like Mr. Burr's he