I am sure that it was the most singular situation in which a lawyer was ever consulted. My client's high character had commanded the love and confidence of all who knew him well, and this love and confidence were pushing him into danger. His own character was the wood of the cross on which he was being crucified. That week I appeared for Norris in a case of some importance in New York. One day in court a letter was put in my hands from the editor of a great newspaper. It requested that I should call upon him that day or appoint an hour when he could see me at my hotel. I went to his office. “Is it true that Norris is to be our new minister to--?” he asked. “It is not true,” I said. “Is it true that he served a term in an Illinois prison?” “Why do you ask?” “For the reason that a story to that effect is now in this office.” It was a critical moment, and I did not know how to behave myself. “I mean that a man has submitted the story--he wishes to sell it,” he added. “Forgive me if I speak a piece to you,” I said. “It will be short and to the point.” As nearly as I could remember them I repeated the noble lines of Whitman: “And still goes one, saying, 'What will ye give me and I will deliver this man unto you?' And they make the covenant and pay the pieces of silver, The old, old fee... paid for the Son of Mary. “If there's any descendant of Judas Iscariot on this paper I shall see to it that his name and relationship are made known,” I added. “We have not bought the article, and it is not likely that we shall,” said he. “If you wish to answer my question I shall make no use of your words.” There are times when one has to act and act promptly on his own judgment, and when the fate of a friend is in the balance it is a hard thing to do. So I quickly chose my landing and jumped. “I have only this to say,” I answered. “Mr. Norris served a term in prison when he was a boy, but the facts are of such a nature that it wouldn't be safe for you to publish any part of them.” I saw a query in his eye as he looked at me, and I went on: “They are loaded--that's the reason--loaded to the muzzle, and they'd come pretty near blowing up your establishment. You know my reputation possibly.” “Oh, very well.” “Then you know that I am not in the habit of going off at half-cock. I tell you the facts would put you squarely on the Judas roll, and it isn't a popular part to play. Briefly, the facts are: Norris suffered for a friend, and that puts him on a plane so high that it isn't safe to touch him.” “On your word, Mr. Potter, I will do what I can to kill the story--now and hereafter,” said he. “The young man who wrote it is a decent fellow and will soon be in my employ. But of course Norris will decline to be put in high places.”