"I'll go down here and see this nigga lawyer. He ought to be willing to get one cheaper than a white lawyer. Don't you think so?" "Possibly." He went out. About a half hour later he returned, looking downcast and sullen. He was silent for some minutes, and then said, as if addressing himself: "That nigga's crazy." "Who's crazy?" Sidney inquired, looking up. "That nigga lawyer." "How do you figure that out?" "I went in there, and spoke to him in regard to the divorce, and what do you think he wants for getting me one?" "I haven't the faintest idea." "Fifty dollars! What do you think of that for highway robbery?" "Perhaps your case is a bit more complicated than the average, and, therefore, justifies a larger fee," Wyeth suggested. "Aw, that what he said, too, but he's a blood sucker. He can't gouge me." "Oh, well," said Wyeth in an off-hand manner, "you won't quibble on a matter of twenty-five dollars additional, when you are getting a good wife. Consider that as a treasure." "Well, I don't care. If she's willing to pay half, I'll give the sucker fifty." Wyeth bestowed a terrible look upon him, whereupon Slim withered: "Well, she'd be getting as much as I. So what's the difference?" he tried to argue. Wyeth continued to glare at him. "The idea!" he declared presently, with undisguised contempt. "To wish a woman to pay for your release from another! I'm too shocked to say how ashamed I am of you!" Slim laughed sheepishly. "Twenty-five dollars for a pair of legs like you! If I were a woman, I wouldn't give twenty-five cents for you as you sit there now," Wyeth added, with subdued mirth. The next day, his atmosphere had changed perceptibly. He was in an ugly humor. Presently he gave words to its cause. "That nigga woman's fooling me, and I know it." "What's the stew today?" "She's got another nigga a-hangin' around her. I've been suspicioning it for some time." "You're the limit." "I gave her a ballin' out last night about it too." Mrs. Lautier came in at this moment, and that was the end of it for awhile. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN "_I'll Never be Anything But a Vagabond_" Sidney Wyeth had about filled Attalia with _The Tempest_ by this time, and had anticipated going to another city almost as large, about one hundred seventy miles west. He made known the fact to Slim, and suggested that he might leave him in charge of the office, if he did so. As a precaution, or rather, to get some idea of his ability to dictate letters, he had him compose a few. When the typist handed them to him to be read, and he had done so, he decided to allow him to continue his canvass, and to hire some one more proficient. "Say," he cried the next day. "I've been thinking it over, and maybe I'll be going along with you." "That so? Well, I do not see any reason in particular why you should not go." "There's only one reason," he said thoughtfully. "What is it?" "Mrs. King." "Oh! yes; that's so. When's the wedding going to be?"