“And you must remember, sir, that the reputation of this success is worth considerable to me but I suppose this is a very unbusiness-like way to talk, and if you are in a hurry for me to set my fee, I will do so,” and he named a sum which he thought would pay him well for his labor. The little, thin-visaged, wiry man chuckled again, and clapped Earle upon the shoulder in an approving manner. “Very moderate and proper for a youngster, only let me whisper a little bit of advice in your ear, albeit I’m no lawyer. When you can find a fat customer, _salt a good slice of him for yourself_, and when a _lean_ one comes along, don’t cut in quite so deep. How’s that for counsel?” “Very good,” Earle said, with a hearty laugh; “but,” with a sparkle of mischief in his eye, as it traversed the thin form of his client from top to toe, “I’m in some doubt as to which class you would prefer to belong to.” The little man tapped his pockets significantly, and then shoving a hand into each, drew forth two good-sized rolls of bills and showed them to him. “Fat, youngster, when I’ve any dealings with you, though I can tell you I know how to _pinch hard_ in the right place;” and his wiry fingers closed over the bills in a way that reminded Earle of miniature boa constrictors. He was a strange character, and though during the trial things had come out which seemed to make him out a miser, harsh and soulless in all his dealings with men, yet Earle thought there must be a spot of goodness and generosity about him somewhere, for he seemed so appreciative of his services. And the result proved he was right. “I’ll call around and settle to-morrow; I want this thing off my mind; and I reckon you’ve not found many bones to pick besides this during the last four months,” he said at parting. “No, sir; this gigantic one has occupied all my time and skill.” “Spoiled any teeth?” his client asked, facetiously. “No, sir; sharpened them; ready for another,” Earle responded, in the same strain, to carry out the poor joke. “You’ll do; I would like you for a son; wish I had a daughter—you should marry her;” and the little man, with his characteristic bob of the head, turned and went his way, while Earle, musing upon the events of the day returned to his office, but thinking that if his client happened to have a daughter, he might wish to be excused from a nearer relationship to him, notwithstanding the now plethoric state of his money-bags. The next morning he received a check for five thousand dollars from the eccentric man, together with an expression of gratitude for his faithful services. And this was the foundation—the “foundation laid with his own hands”—which Earle now began to build upon. There were no more idle days for him. Work poured in upon him from every side. Success brought countless friends, where before he had not possessed one and he bade fair ere long to fulfill Richard Forrester’s prediction concerning him—that he had a brilliant career before him.