"State your case to me, then," said he tersely.
Lon Cronk settled back and began to speak.
"There's a man here in this town by the name of Shellington. He's a lawyer, too, and he's got my kids, and I want 'em. That's my case, Mister."
Brimbecomb's heart began to beat tumultuously. Chance was giving him a lead he could not have won of his own efforts, and he smiled, turning on Cronk more cordially.
"Have you demanded your children of Mr. Shellington?" he asked.
"Yep."
Everett bent over eagerly.
"What did he say to you?"
"He says as how I could go to the devil, and that I could git the law after him if I wanted 'em. Can I get 'em, Mister?"
The lawyer straightened up, and for many moments was deep in thought before answering Lon. The chance of which he could never have dreamed had come to him. This visit laid open a way for him to tear Fledra from Horace; in fact, he could now legally take her from him with no possibility of public discredit to himself. He narrowly observed the men before him, and knew that he should later be able to force them to do as he wished. He forgot his foster father and mother--aye, forgot even Ann--as all that was black in his nature inflamed his desire for the ebony-haired girl.
During several minutes he rapidly planned how he could bring the affair to a favorable climax with the least possible danger. But, whether by fair means or by foul, he resolved that Fledra should become his.
Presently, as if to gain time, he asked: "Do you want them both?"
"Yep."
"The boy is ill, I hear," he said.
"That don't make no difference," cried Lon. "I want him jest the same. Can ye get 'em fer me, Mister?"
"I think so," replied Everett; "and, if I take the case, I shall have to ask you to keep out of it entirely, until I'm ready for you. We shall probably have to go into court."
"Yep, ye'll have to bring it into court, all right, I know ye will. How much money do ye want now?"
"Fifty dollars," replied Everett; "and it will be more if I have a suit, and still more if I win. Come here again next week Monday, and I'll lay my plans before you."
Lon clapped his shabby cap upon his head, and, with a surly leave-taking, moved to go. Lem lagged behind; but a glance at the lawyer's forbidding face sent him shuffling after the squatter.