The Judge was not at all threatening him. "I am only telling you," he frankly explained, "what a long life in New York has shown me. I like you, Mr. Huber; I believe you could make a great success in life if you were less hot-headed; but I believe your hot-headedness can ruin you at the bar, can ruin you socially and financially, and can put a stop to your political career forever. I knew one man that attempted something such as you are attempting and never had another client afterward. I knew another that people heard a nasty story about and shut all their doors against. I knew a dozen that became political corpses, and I knew more that went bankrupt." Luke smiled. "And some," he suggested, "disappeared altogether, I dare say?" The Judge looked him full in the eyes. "I have heard so," said he. Then he brightened somewhat. "But you will not defy the lightning," he continued. "You are too practical. I am quite sure you must see how very right I am and how very well disposed my friends are toward you, Mr. Huber. Think what they could do for you, socially, financially, politically. Think what they could do for you personally and for this reform movement." Luke’s smile broke into a laugh. "Help the reform?" he exploded. "Oh, Lord!" Then, as quickly, the laugh ended. "In plain terms," he said, "what have you been telling me?" His languor had disappeared, and a sharp rage succeeded it. His words cracked like a whip. "You’ve been telling me that if I handed the safety of the M. & N. patrons over to the men that hire you, and let those men go free on the strength of a promise already broken, they would make me rich, elect me District-Attorney to do their work for them, advance me in their own social set and maybe, if I kept on doing all they asked, turn me into a Judge or a Governor or a millionaire! And you’ve been saying if I don’t do it, they’ll have me forced out of politics, out of the practice of the law, out of decent people’s houses—and maybe knocked over the head or shot in the back at a dark corner. Well, here’s my answer: I don’t believe they would help me, I don’t believe they can hurt me, and I don’t care a damn, one way or the other!" The Judge bowed. He rose. He knew the world too well to give way to anger: he never lost his temper; he only sometimes advisedly loosed it. "Is this," he asked, "your final decision, Mr. Huber?" "Yes," raged Luke; "and you may bet your last cent on that. It’s my final decision, and it’s a plain ’No.’ If these fellows don’t do what I’ve ordered, I’ll show them up—the whole bunch of them. I’ll do it—why, I’d do it if they were the seraphim and cherubim, and all the Thrones, Dominions, Virtues, Powers, Principalities, and Archangels rolled into one!" *CHAPTER VIII* §1. Ex-Judge Marcus Stein had mastered, in common with most truly dignified men, the art of acting quickly without hurrying. Upon leaving Luke’s apartments, he exercised this art.