"Exactly. So, you see, I have two chances."

"I need not ask you," said Joey with a sage nod, "whether you intend to
throw in your lot with the thieves or with the honest men. You will flock
with the thieves."

"I will," said Mitchell grimly. "My cousin had quite supplanted me with
my so-called Uncle McClintock. The old dotard would have left him every
cent, except for that calf-love affair of Stan's with the Selden girl.
Some reflections on the girl's character had come to McClintock's ears."

"Mitchell," said Joey, "before God, you make me sick!"

"What's the matter with you now, fool?" demanded Mitchell. "I never so
much as mentioned the girl's name in McClintock's hearing."

"Trust you!" said the clerk. "You're a slimy toad, you are. You're
nauseatin'. Pah! Ptth!"

"McClintock repeated these rumors to Stan," said the lawyer gloatingly.
"Stan called him a liar. My uncle never liked me. It is very doubtful if
he leaves me more than a moderate bequest, even now. But I have at least
made sure that he leaves nothing to Stan. And now I shall strip his mine
from him and leave him to rot in the penitentiary. For I always hated
him, quite aside from any thought of my uncle's estate. I hate him for
what he is. I always wanted to trample his girl-face in the mire."

"Leave your chicken-curses and come to the point," urged the junior
member of the firm impatiently. "It is no news to me that your brain is