With a sigh he turned to his law-books again, and sat for a while staring steadfastly at a section of the ’Act of Consolidation of the Northeastern Railroads’ which he had stumbled on that morning.  The section, if he read its meaning aright, was fraught with the gravest consequences for the Northeastern Railroads; if he read its meaning aright, the Northeastern Railroads had been violating it persistently for many years and were liable for unknown sums in damages.  The discovery of it had dazed him, and the consequences resulting from a successful suit under the section would be so great that he had searched diligently, though in vain, for some modification of it since its enactment.  Why had not some one discovered it before?  This query appeared to be unanswerable, until the simple—­though none the less remarkable—­solution came to him, that perhaps no definite occasion had hitherto arisen for seeking it.  Undoubtedly the Railroads’ attorneys must know of its existence—­his own father, Hilary Vane, having been instrumental in drawing up the Act.  And a long period had elapsed under which the Northeastern Railroads had been a law unto themselves.

The discovery was of grave import to Austen.  A month before, chiefly through the efforts of his friend, Tom, who was gradually taking his father’s place in the Gaylord Lumber Company, Austen had been appointed junior counsel for that corporation.  The Honourable Galusha Hammer still remained the senior counsel, but was now confined in his house at Newcastle by an illness which made the probability of his return to active life extremely doubtful; and Tom had repeatedly declared that in the event of his non-recovery Austen should have Mr. Hammer’s place.  As counsel for the Gaylord Lumber Company, it was clearly his duty to call the attention of young Mr. Gaylord to the section; and in case Mr. Hammer did not resume his law practice, it would fall upon Austen himself to bring the suit.  His opponent in this matter would be his own father.

The consequences of this culminating conflict between them, the coming of which he had long dreaded—­although he had not foreseen its specific cause—­weighed heavily upon Austen.  It was Tom Gaylord himself who abruptly aroused him from his revery by bursting in at the door.

“Have you heard what’s up?” he cried, flinging down a newspaper before Austen’s eyes.  “Have you seen the Guardian?”

“What’s the matter now, Tom?”

“Matter!” exclaimed Tom; “read that.  Your friend and client, the Honourable Humphrey Crewe, is out for governor.”

“Humphrey Crewe for governor!”

“On an anti-railroad platform.  I might have known something of the kind was up when he began to associate with Tooting, and from the way he spoke to me in March.  But who’d have thought he’d have the cheek to come out for governor?  Did you ever hear of such tommyrot?”

Austen looked grave.

“I’m not sure it’s such tommyrot,” he said.