“Well,” exclaimed Vandover scornfully, “I suppose that’s business, but I would call it damned unkind!”

“Now, look here, old man,” returned Geary consolingly.  “Don’t you take the monkey-wrench off the safety valve like that.  What am I here for if it isn’t to help you?  Maybe you don’t know that this is a mighty unprofessional thing to do.  Ah, you bet, if old Beale knew this I would get it right in the neck.  Don’t you suppose I can help you more as Wade’s lawyer than I could as yours?  And now that’s the very first thing I’ve got to tell you—­to keep this dark, that I have seen you.  I can’t do anything for you if you don’t promise that.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” returned Vandover, reassured.  “That’s all right, you can—­”

“It’s not considered the right thing to do,” Geary continued, not heeding Vandover’s answer, “but I just do it because”—­he began to make awkward gestures with both his hands—­“because we’re old friends, like that.  That was the very first thing I thought of when Beale Jr. told me that we two had the case—­that I could get you out of this hole better as Wade’s lawyer than as your own.  Ah, you bet, I was clever enough to see that the first thing.”

“I’m sure it was awfully good of you, old man,” said Vandover sincerely.  “I’m in a lot of trouble nowadays!”

“Well, now don’t you bother, Van,” answered Geary consolingly.  “I guess we can pull you out of this all right.”  He drew up to the table, looking about from side to side.  “Got any writing paper concealed about the premises?” he asked.  Vandover pushed him over his writing pad, and Geary, taking the cap from his fountain pen, began asking a series of questions, taking down his answers in shorthand.  After he had asked him as to his age, length of residence in the city, his property, and some few other technical matters, he leaned back in his chair and said: 

“Now, let’s hear your side of the story, Van.  I don’t suppose you like to go over the thing again, but you see I ought to know.”  Vandover told of the affair, Geary making notes as he went along.  It was nearly noon before their interview was at an end.  Then Geary gathered up the papers and reached for his hat and stick, saying: 

“Well, now, that’s all we can do to-day.  I think I’ll be up to see you again day after to-morrow, in the afternoon.  Beale Jr. and I have a date with Mr. Wade again to-morrow, I think, and I can talk to you more definitely after that.  You know this is the devil of a thing to do,” he suddenly exclaimed apprehensively, “this playing back and forth between the two parties like this; regularly dishonourable, don’t you know?”

“If you think it’s dishonourable,” said Vandover as he accompanied Geary to the door, “if you think it’s dishonourable, Charlie, why, don’t do it!  I don’t want to ask you to do anything dishonourable for me.”