Now, Obadiah Dale had never given a moment's consideration to a second marriage, and the thought that his attorney harbored inner suspicions of matrimonial designs upon his part interfered with the thread of his remarks. "What put that into your head?" he demanded, testily. "Put what?" The fat face of the lawyer reflected great innocence. "Marriage licenses," retorted Obadiah. "Oh," chuckled the attorney, and quite frankly for one of his profession, he confessed, "It just slipped out, I suppose." The mill owner gave Hezekiah a severe glance as if to warn him of the grave danger of slips of the tongue to one in his profession. This attention was lost, because the lawyer seemed greatly interested in the erection of a sign over the way. Finding looks unavailing, Obadiah reverted to his business. "A fellow on a motorcycle ran into my car this morning. He broke a leg and they took him to the hospital where he is now, I believe." "Who was to blame?" asked the attorney. "I can't tell," Obadiah replied crossly, as he remembered Ike's testimony. "I can't get a thing out of that fool chauffeur of mine. His story is absurd." "Were there witnesses?" "One, I think, besides my daughter." "What does she say?" Hezekiah tickled his chin with his glasses and examined the picture moulding as if it were something unique in that line. "I have not asked her, directly. I thought it inadvisable. I gather that she believes herself to blame because she told the chauffeur to hurry home." "Ahem," said the lawyer, resuming his dental tattoo with great spirit. "Who had the right of way?" "The motorcycle was approaching from the right," admitted Obadiah grudgingly. Hezekiah arose to his feet and moved around until he stood opposite to his employer. "Keep out of court, Obadiah," he warned him. "A jury will soak you in this kind of case. How far can I go in a compromise?" he concluded, perfunctorily. "I won't pay a cent," roared Obadiah, flying into a rage. "They can't bleed me." Hezekiah understood the manufacturer's mood. He paused for a minute and then continued very calmly. "How about a couple of hundred dollars and hospital expenses?" "No." "The fellow's hospital expenses?" There was a persuasive note in the lawyer's voice. "No!" Obadiah's face was flushed and set in its obstinacy. "The man may be poor. He may have dependents who will be deprived of the actual necessities of life. It could easily be that suffering and want would arise from this little case." There was a pleading note in Hezekiah's voice and almost a look of entreaty upon his kindly face. "I don't give a hang," snarled Obadiah. "That's their bad luck, not mine." Yet, the attorney waited, silently watching the angry manufacturer thrust papers from side to side of his desk. Finally he glanced up. His temper had worn itself out. "Fix it up for twenty-five dollars," he snapped. "That's my limit."