Now, Murray, in spite of his good nature, was a dignified man, but he knew when to sacrifice his dignity. He was an “office man,” but he rather enjoyed an excuse for getting outside and occupying himself in some unusual way. In fact, Murray had the making of a “strenuous” man in him, if fate had not decreed that he should devote his energies to the less exciting task of directing the destinies of a life insurance agency. So he rather enjoyed the mild excitement of getting into the adjoining office unobserved and lying prone on his stomach to get his ear close to the crack under the door. But the reward was not great. The lawyer—a big blustering fellow—was there, and so were Schlimmer, Tainter and Mays, but the meeting seemed to be one for jubilation rather than for planning. “I got the papers all ready,” said the lawyer. “Sign ’em, Tainter, and then we’re ready to go ahead the moment Mays gives the word. We want to land all we can.” And that was the only business transacted. The rest of the time was given to gloating over some scheme that was not put in words. “You bet you, I make that Murray sit up and take notice, yes?” remarked Schlimmer. “I gif him his chance once and I get the vorst of it, but I even up now.” “It’s great,” commented the lawyer. “You’ve got a great head on you, Schlimmer. Not one man in a thousand would have thought of it. We’ll all even up, but they would have been mighty suspicious if I had let Tainter’s application go in through Mays. That’s where you get the advantage of having a lawyer in the deal.” And more to the same effect, but no definite explanation of the scheme. Murray was at his office unusually early Monday morning, and the first thing he did was to have a clerk look up the Schlimmer case. Some company, he knew, had got into trouble over a Schlimmer policy, and he wanted to know all about it. He learned that Schlimmer had taken out a policy on his wife’s life, had demanded and secured a rebate from the solicitor, and that another policy-holder had taken action that resulted in nullifying the policy and imposing a fine on the company. “I think I understand it now,” mused Murray, “but it looks to me as if pretty prompt action might be necessary.” All doubt, all hesitation had disappeared. Murray was wide awake and active. He called in his private messenger. “When Mr. Mays reports,” he said, “he is to wait until I have had a talk with him before going out. I shall send for him when I am ready.” Then, giving the boy a slip of paper with a name and an address on it, “I want to see that man here at once. Take a cab and bring him. Tell him the validity of his life insurance depends upon it.” While the boy was gone, Murray slipped out himself, and, when he returned, a stranger accompanied him. The stranger was secreted in a room adjoining, and then Murray took up the routine of his regular work. The only interruption came when a clerk informed him that Mays was waiting.