quick, vehement utterance, as though he grudged the time taken to speak fully about anything.  He went along the street eagerly; he wrote with all his might.  There were twenty men in the Territory, at that day, any one of whom knew five times as much law as he.  Other members of the bar were accustomed to speak contemptuously of Conger’s legal knowledge.  But Conger won more cases and made more money than any of them.  If he did not know law in the widest sense, he did know it in the narrowest.  He always knew the law that served his turn.  When he drew an assignment for a client, no man could break it.  And when he undertook a case, he was sure to find his opponent’s weak point.  He would pick flaws in pleas; he would postpone; he would browbeat witnesses; he would take exceptions to the rulings of the court in order to excite the sympathy of the jury; he would object to testimony on the other side, and try to get in irrelevant testimony on his own; he would abuse the opposing counsel, crying out, “The counsel on the other side lies like thunder, and he knows it!” By shrewdness, by an unwearying perseverance, by throwing his whole weight into his work, Conger made himself the most successful lawyer of his time in the Territory.  And preserved his social position at the same time, for though he was not at all scrupulous, he managed to keep on the respectable side of the line which divides the lawyer from the shyster.

Mr. Conger had been Mr. Plausaby’s counsel in one or two cases, and Charlton, knowing no other lawyer, sent for him.  Mr. Conger had, with his characteristic quickness of perception, picked up the leading features of the case from the newspapers.  He sat down on the bed in Charlton’s cell with his brisk professional air, and came at once to business in his jerky-polite tone.

“Bad business, this, Mr. Charlton, but let us hope we’ll pull through. We generally do pull through.  Been in a good many tight places in my time.  But it is necessary, first of all, that you trust me.  The boat is in a bad way—­you hail a pilot—­he comes aboard.  Now—­hands off the helm—­you sit down and let the pilot steer her through.  You understand?” And Mr. Conger looked as though he might have smiled at his own illustration if he could have spared the time.  But he couldn’t.  As for Albert, he only looked more dejected.

“Now,” he proceeded, “let’s get to business.  In the first place, you must trust me with everything.  You must tell me whether you took the warrant or not.”  And Mr. Conger paused and scrutinized his client closely.

Charlton said nothing, but his face gave evidence of a struggle.

“Well, well, Mr. Charlton,” said the brisk man with the air of one who has gotten through the first and most disagreeable part of his business, and who now proposes to proceed immediately to the next matter on the docket.  “Well, well, Mr. Charlton, you needn’t say anything if the question is an unpleasant one.  An experienced lawyer knows what silence means, of course,” and there was just a trifle of self-gratulation in his voice.  As for Albert, he winced, and seemed to be trying to make up his mind to speak.