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 I believe I can convince him that it would be poor policy to disregard any reasonable demand.”

“I had thought of that. But my wife’s brother advises a different course.”

"Ah, yes. Mrs. Crane said something of that sort. Well, Crane, if you’re going to law about it, I hope you’ll consult a sound lawyer, and you know as well as I that Homer Bright is not one.”

Dr. Crane coloured and bridled. “I’m sure you are disinterested, St. Peter, but, frankly, I think your judgment has been warped by events. You don’t realize how clear the matter is to unprejudiced minds. Though I’m such an unpractical man, I have evidence to rest my claims upon.”

“The more the better, if you are going to depend on such a windbag as Bright. If you go to law, I’d like to see you win your case.”

St. Peter said good-night, went down the stairs, and out through the dark pine-trees. Evidence, Crane said; probably letters Tom had written him during the winter he was working at Johns Hopkins. Well, there was nothing to be done, unless he could get old Dr. Hutchins to persuade Crane to employ an intelligent lawyer. Homer Bright’s rhetoric might influence a jury in a rape or bigamy case, but it would antagonize a judge in an equity court.

The Professor took a turn in the park before going home. The interview had depressed him, and he was afraid he might be wakeful. He had never