course, Goarly was a brute. Had he not threatened to shoot foxes?
But, then, an attorney must live by lawsuits, and it seemed to Mr.
Twentyman that an attorney should not stop to inquire whether a new
client is a brute or not.



CHAPTER IV

The Dillsborough Club

The club, so called at Dillsborough, was held every Saturday
evening in a back parlour at the Bush, and was attended generally
by seven or eight members. It was a very easy club. There was no
balloting, and no other expense attending it other than that of
paying for the liquor which each man chose to drink. Sometimes,
about ten o'clock, there was a little supper, the cost of which was
defrayed by subscription among those who partook of it. It was one
rule of the club, or a habit, rather, which had grown to be a rule,
that Mr. Runciman might introduce into it any one he pleased. I do
not know that a similar privilege was denied to any one else; but
as Mr. Runciman had a direct pecuniary advantage in promoting the
club, the new-comers were generally ushered in by him. When the
attorney and Twentyman entered the room Mr. Runciman was seated as
usual in an arm-chair at the corner of the fire nearest to the
door, with the bell at his right hand. He was a hale, good-looking
man about fifty, with black hair, now turning grey at the edges,
and a clean-shorn chin. He had a pronounced strong face of his own,
one capable of evincing anger and determination when necessary, but
equally apt for smiles or, on occasion, for genuine laughter. He