Obadiah closed the door of the office with a resounding slam behind
his departing staff and, taking a bunch of unopened letters from Mr.
Jones's former place of labor, he bore them into his own lair. As he
sank down behind his desk he thumbed them over and, selecting one,
opened and read the paper it contained. It was a formal order from the
State Board of Health forbidding the further discharge of waste from the
dye house at his mill into the Lame Moose River. As the manufacturer
grasped the import of the document, his face purpled with rage and
the paper shook in his hands. Finally he petulantly cast it aside and
groaned aloud at a twinge of indigestion. Dropping back in his chair
he took Virginia's letter from his pocket and re-read it. "I've had
bad luck ever since she left," he growled. "Things don't break right.
I can't keep my mind on my business. She must come home." Unhooking his
telephone, he asked Hezekiah Wilkins to come to him.
Hezekiah responded, smiling pleasantly. "Good morning," he exclaimed.
"What has happened to the boys? Not sick, I hope."
"I fired them," Obadiah rapped. "They were too fresh around here and
I let them go." His anger and resentment displayed itself. "They are no
good. I wouldn't give them recommendations as dog catchers."
"Hump," ejaculated Hezekiah. "Both at once? It leaves you short
handed."
Obadiah invited the attention of his attorney to business by handing him
the order of the Board of Health.
Hezekiah read the document with care and, returning it to the
manufacturer, gazed at the ceiling reflectively.
"Well, what do you think of it?" Obadiah's manner was short.
"I have been expecting it," the lawyer replied with calmness. "What
else could you expect? You are ruining the water that people have to
drink."
"I can't be forced. They won't drive me," Obadiah maintained with
his usual obstinacy.
"They'll drive you into court fast enough, if you don't obey that
order," Hezekiah warned him with a chuckle.
"That's just where I want to be. It's up to you to develop a plan
to flim-flam that bunch of fool doctors. You're losing your 'pep' or
you'd have worked out something before this," sneered Obadiah.
"Perhaps I am losing my 'pep,'" Hezekiah mimicked, and his eyes
flashed as he went on. "I have enough mental alertness left to advise
you not to bite off your nose to spite your face."
Obadiah flushed angrily but controlled his temper. "Listen," he
snarled, "while I tell you what I pay you to tell me. The Lame Moose
is a navigable stream, isn't it?"
Hezekiah nodded, his eyes dancing with amusement.
Obadiah frowned at his attorney and continued, "We'll raise a federal
question and get the case into the U. S. Courts and with dilatory pleas,
continuances and appeals it will take years before a final decision is
handed down. How's that?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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