So after considerable discussion, the sign on Peter’s door became “Stirling and Ogden,” and the firm blossomed out with an office boy—one of Peter’s original “angle” friends, now six years older than when Peter and he had first met. Ogden’s friends did materialize, and brought good paying cases. As the city, referee, corporation and bank work increased, their joint practice needed more help, and Ray Rivington was, on Ogden’s request, taken in. “He doesn’t get on with his law studies, though he pretends to work over them hard. In fact he’ll never be a good lawyer. He hasn’t a legal mind. But he’ll bring cases, for he’s very popular in society, and he’ll do all the palavering and running round very well. He’s just the fellow to please people.” This was what Ogden urged, adding, “I might as well tell you that I’m interested for another reason, too. He and Dorothy will marry, if he can ever get to the marrying point. This, of course, is to be between us.” “I’ll be very glad to have him, both for his own sake, and for what you’ve just told me,” said Peter. Thus it was that the firm again changed its name, becoming “Stirling, Ogden and Rivington,” and actually spread into two other rooms, Peter’s original little “ten by twelve” being left to the possession of the office boy. That functionary gazed long hours at the map of Italy on the blank wall, but it did not trouble him. He only whistled and sang street songs at it. As for Peter, he was too busy to need blank walls. He had fought two great opponents. The world and himself. He had conquered them both. CHAPTER XXXIII. A RENEWAL.