"Thank you, my dear sir," answered Mr. Ball, "speaking for self and partner, I think I may say that we are well." "Yes," said Mr. Tongs. "But," resumed Mr. Ball, turning to the table, "your time is precious, Mr. Horn. Shall we proceed?" "If you please, gentlemen." "Very well," said the lawyer, taking up a bundle of papers; "these are the letters relating to the case of your unfortunate cousin. Shall I give you their contents in due order, Mr. Horn?" "If you please," and "Cobbler" Horn composed himself to listen, with a grave face. The letters were from the agents of Messrs. Tongs and Ball in New York; and the information they conveyed was to the effect that "Cobbler" Horn's scapegrace cousin had been traced to a poor lodging-house in that city, where he was slowly dying of consumption. He might last for months, but it was possible he would not linger more than a few weeks. "Cobbler" Horn listened to the reading of the letters with head down-bent. When it was finished, he looked up. "Thank you, gentlemen," he said; "have you done anything?" Mr. Ball gazed at his client through his spectacles, over the top of the last of the letters, which he still held open in his hand, and there was gentle expostulation in his eye. "Our instructions, Mr. Horn, were to find your cousin." "I see," said "Cobbler" Horn, with a smile; "and you have done that. Well now, gentlemen, will you be kind enough to do something more?" "We will attend to your commands, Mr. Horn," was the deferential response. "That is our business." "Yes," was the emphatic assent of Mr. Tongs. "The Golden Shoemaker" was becoming accustomed to the readiness of all with whom he had to do to wait upon his will. "Well, gentlemen," he said, "I wish everything to be done to relieve my poor cousin's distress, and even, if possible, to save his life. Be good enough to telegraph directions for him to be removed without delay to some place where he will receive the best care that money can procure. If his life cannot be saved, he may at least be kept alive till I can reach his bedside." "Your commands shall be obeyed, sir," said Mr. Ball; "but," he added with much surprise, "is it necessary for you to go to New York yourself?" "That you must leave to me, gentlemen," said "the Golden Shoemaker" in a tone which put an end to debate. "Now, gentlemen," he resumed, "kindly hand me those letters; and let me know how soon, after to-morrow, I can set out." "You don't mean to lose any time, sir," said Mr. Ball, handing the bundle of letters to his client. In a few moments, the lawyers were able to supply the information that a berth could be secured in a first-class steamer which would leave Liverpool for New York in two days' time; and it was arranged that a passage should be booked. "We await your further orders, Mr. Horn," said Mr. Ball, rubbing his hands together, as he perceived that his client still retained his seat. "I'm afraid I detain you, gentlemen."