John turned and looked at the speaker.

“In all matters?” he asked, slowly.

“Yes sir, in all.”

“And they refuse to see me?”

“It would—­er—­seem so. . . .  Is there anything further, Kendrick?  If not then this affair between your—­er—­client and mine would appear to be a matter of skill for you and me to contest.  We’ll see who wins.”

John still looked at him.

“So that’s it then,” he said, after a moment.  “You and I are to determine which is the better lawyer?”

“So it would seem.  Though, considering my record and experience, I don’t know that—­”

“That such a test is necessary?  I don’t know that it is, either.  But we’ll have it.”

He walked from the room and they heard him ascending the stairs.  Captain Obed swore aloud.  Heman Daniels laughed.

CHAPTER XI

The next morning the captain was an early caller.  Breakfast at the High Cliff House was scarcely over when he knocked at the kitchen door.  Imogene opened the door.

“Mr. Kendrick ain’t here,” she said, in answer to the caller’s question.  “He’s gone.”

“Gone?  So early?  Where’s he gone; down to his office?”

“I don’t know.  He’s gone, that’s all I do know.  He didn’t stop for any breakfast either.”

“Humph!  That’s funny.  Where’s Mrs. Thankful?”

“She’s up in Miss Emily’s room.  Miss Emily didn’t come down to breakfast neither.  I’ll tell Mrs. Barnes you’re here.”

When Thankful came she looked grave enough.

“I’m awful glad to see you, Cap’n,” she said.  “I’ve been wantin’ to talk to some sane person; the one I’ve been talkin’ to ain’t sane, not now.  Come into the dinin’-room.  Imogene, you needn’t finish clearin’ away till I tell you to.  You stay in the kitchen here.”

When she and Captain Obed were in the dining-room alone, and with both doors closed, Thankful told of the morning’s happenings.

“They’re bad enough, too,” she declared.  “Almost as bad as that silly business last night—­or worse, if such a thing’s possible.  To begin with, Mr. John Kendrick’s gone.”

“Yes, Imogene said he’d gone.  But what made him go so early?”

“You don’t understand, Cap’n.  I mean he’s gone—­gone for good.  He isn’t goin’ to board or room here any more.”

Captain Obed whistled.  “Whew!” he exclaimed.  “You don’t mean it?”

“I wish I didn’t, but I do.  I didn’t see him this mornin’, he went too early for that, but he took his suitcase and his trunk is all packed and locked.  He left a note for me with a check for his room rent and board in it.  The note said that under the circumstances he presumed I would agree ’twas best for him to go somewheres else at once.  He thanked me for my kindness, and said some real nice things—­but he’s gone.”

“Tut! tut!  Dear, dear!  Where’s he gone to?  Did he say?”