Mrs. Moffat was not in a position to overlook even a slight chance to get any money, especially if it cost nothing to make the attempt. She knew less about insurance than Mrs. Crimmins, and Mrs. Crimmins had only wild, weird, second-hand notions. Still, Mrs. Crimmins talked confidently, and Mrs. Moffat finally took the address of the lawyer recommended to her. This, of course, was a mistake—it would have been better to go direct to the insurance company. But the impression prevails in some quarters that insurance companies are ready to take advantage of any technicality to escape the payment of claims, and that a lawyer’s services are necessary to compel them to pay anything that can possibly be questioned. Some lawyers, for their own purposes, encourage this idea. Isaac Hinse, to whom Mrs. Moffat went, was one of this class. “You did well to come to me,” he said pompously, as soon as she had stated her errand. “What chance has a woman, with no knowledge of the law, against a great corporation that has big lawyers engaged for the sole purpose of bulldozing or fooling the ignorant? Fortunately, I know how to deal with them. Now, where is this policy?” “Tore up,” answered Mrs. Moffat. “What!” cried Hinse. “Tom tore it up when he couldn’t pay any more on it. I ain’t looking for the whole thousand dollars, but only to get back what he paid in. Mrs. Crimmins said I could do that.” Hinse leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Well,” he said at last, “that makes more trouble, of course. An insurance company can’t escape its obligations because the policy has been destroyed, but it makes it more difficult to prove the claim. Do you know what kind of policy it was?” “How should I?” returned Mrs. Moffat. “I’m no lawyer nor no insurance man. I come to you to learn my rights.” “Quite right, quite right,” conceded Hinse; “but I must know something of the circumstances. When was this policy taken out?” “Fifteen or sixteen years ago,” answered Mrs. Moffat. “We was doing pretty well then. Tom’s aunt left him a bit of money, an’ Tom was workin’ steady an’ I got some money a little later. But Tom was always unlucky. He didn’t seem to hold on well, an’ we kept movin’ an’ movin’ an’ gettin’ harder up—” “And he finally let the policy lapse,” suggested Hinse. “Lapse!” exclaimed Mrs. Moffat, as if she had made an important discovery unexpectedly. “That’s it; that’s what he said when he tore it up an’ threw it in the fire. I only knew he didn’t think it was good, but Mrs. Crimmins says they got to pay back what he paid them.” “That depends on the policy and circumstances,” said Hinse in his most impressive way—and Hinse prided himself upon being impressive. “How long did he pay premiums?” “Eight or ten years.” “Ha!” exclaimed Hinse. “There is a chance, but it is a desperate chance—so desperate that I really can’t afford to take this on my usual contingent fee.” “What’s that?” asked Mrs. Moffat.