The Confessions of Artemas Quibble: Being the Ingenuous and Unvarnished History of Artemas Quibble, Esquire, One-Time Practitioner in the New York Criminal Courts, Together with an Account of the Divers Wiles, Tricks, Sophistries, Technicalities, and Sundry Artifices of Himself and Others of the Fraternity, Commonly Yclept "Shysters" or "Shyster Lawyers"Train, Arthur Cheney
General
The Confessions of Artemas Quibble: Being the Ingenuous and Unvarnished History of Artemas Quibble, Esquire, One-Time Practitioner in the New York Criminal Courts, Together with an Account of the Divers Wiles, Tricks, Sophistries, Technicalities, and Sundry Artifices of Himself and Others of the Fraternity, Commonly Yclept "Shysters" or "Shyster Lawyers"
Train, Arthur Cheney
Attorney and client -- Fiction; Legal stories; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
"Quibble," he cried in a rasping voice as soon as my man had gone,
"our luck's turned! That woman has tricked us. She and Bunce went
down to Crookshank's office and, under the pretext of looking for
some deed or release, went through his papers and turned up some
letters from Hawkins in regard to the original divorce proceedings.
They've got one in which he admits being served by Bunce in the
Astor House and asks Crookshank to appear for him. They've got
another, written after Dillingham had fixed him, telling Crookshank
to put in no defence. Yesterday she and Bunce went before the
grand jury, who returned an indictment against Hawkins for perjury.
Then she telegraphed him to come on to New York and meet her to
arrange some money matters; and when he stepped off the train this
afternoon he was arrested and taken to police head-quarters."
"My God!" I cried, turning quite faint. "What's to be done?"
"Get him out of the way as soon as possible!" answered Gottlieb,
his lips trembling. "To-morrow morning he will be arraigned in
the General Sessions. They are going to ask for fifty thousand
dollars bail. We've got to have it. It's the only thing that
stands between us and State prison, for they've got the goods on
Hawkins and unless we see him safe he'll turn on us and help them
send us up!"
"Have you seen him?" I gasped.
"I've just come from head-quarters," he answered. "The fool had
been drinking and had given up a lot of information already. So
I frightened him until he agreed to shut up. They trouble is we
gave him too much money. He says now that unless we protect him
and keep him out of State prison he will give up the whole game to
the district attorney. That would be fun, wouldn't it? The district
attorney wouldn't waste much time on Arthur P. Hawkins if he could
land Gottlieb & Quibble in jail for subornation of perjury, would
he--eh? We've got to scratch gravel--and quick too!"
"But where can we raise fifty thousand dollars?" I groaned
helplessly.
"Dillingham," he retorted without hesitation. "He's our only hope.
He's in as bad as the rest of us. If we go we can pull him along
too. I understand that the woman is prepared to swear not only
that Hawkins admitted to her that he was properly served, but that
she told this to Dillingham, and that he and Hawkins talked the
thing over in her presence. Besides, Cohen confessed to me to-day
that she had pumped him all about Hawkins's coming over to New York
and signing papers; and, although he swears he didn't tell her
anything in particular, yet I don't trust the idiot. No, Quib;
it's bad business and we've got to get Hawkins out of the way at
any cost."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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