Hezekiah came out of his preoccupation. "I beg your pardon," he said hastily. "I asked if you ever talked over the accident with Curtis." "Is that the question you asked me, Mr. Wilkins?" "Honest," he chuckled. "Oh, I can answer that easily. I talked it all over with him." "Have you objection to advising me of the substance--" Hezekiah stopped and restated his question--"Will you tell what you said, Virginia?" "Certainly, I told Mr. Curtis that I was to blame for the accident and he said it was his own fault." The lawyer was surprised. "Did he admit negligence?" Virginia deemed this question to imply danger to Joe and she remembered her promise. "I am not at liberty to say, Mr. Wilkins," she answered stoutly. "I can't discuss Mr. Curtis's part in the accident." For a moment Hezekiah eyed the girl thoughtfully. He arose and took a turn up and down the room while his eyes danced with mischief. He reached a decision which changed his line of questioning when he reseated himself. "Virginia, do you think that you were to blame for that accident?" he asked the girl. "I know that I was." "If you were a witness in court, would you testify that the accident was your fault?" "I would admit my blame anywhere and any place, Mr. Wilkins." "Did Mr. Curtis say anything to you about bringing a suit for damages against your father?" "No, he wouldn't do that, I'm sure." "Why are you sure?" "I told him that I believed my father should pay him damages." "What did he say to that?" asked Hezekiah with interest. "He said that he wouldn't take money from my father." "Was he angry, Virginia?" "Oh, no indeed." She hesitated for a moment. "He seemed tired and worn out and so I left him." "Well, Virginia, what would you say if I told you that I tried to reach an agreement with Mr. Curtis the other day and he refused to accept anything in settlement?" "I say that my father is just the dearest and noblest man that ever lived. He sent you to do that, didn't he, Mr. Wilkins, and never said a word about it to me? Isn't that just like Daddy?" Hezekiah smiled but said no word. Possibly he remembered the amount of the check. Professional confidences make lawyers cynical. He drummed a spirited march upon his desk with his fingers and took no other part in the acclaim of Obadiah. "Mr. Wilkins," worried Virginia, "do you suppose that you could have hurt Mr. Curtis's feelings?" "I did not intend to. Men are never as gentle as women, though." Hezekiah was playing a foxy game. "A man is rougher. It is easy for him to hurt the feelings of a sensitive person without having the slightest intention of doing so." [Illustration: "THIS REQUEST APPEARED TO REQUIRE DEEP THOUGHT"] Virginia gave serious regard to memories of a pair of black eyes. "I think Joe Curtis is very sensitive," she said softly. "Probably," agreed the crafty Hezekiah.