Only the attorneys for the two parties met. There was good reason for this, since a meeting of the principals would only have resulted in a wordy encounter, with nothing accomplished at last in the way of settlement. One could scarcely imagine any business of this nature accomplished between two men who so thoroughly detested one another as did Zechariah Baldwin and John Wycliff. Nor would the settlement have fared any better if the Baldwin end of the negotiations had been left with Deacon Surface, since Wycliff regarded him as an arch-hypocrite, and he, in his turn, was looked upon as an outlaw by the Deacon. “Well, Sturgis,” began the attorney for Baldwin, “your client seems to value his reputation pretty highly. It is not often that an attachment for one hundred thousand dollars is placed in an action of this kind.” “You forget, Stimson,” Lawyer Sturgis replied, “that these millionaires think a good deal of themselves, whatever value the public may set upon them. Since Wycliff is rated a millionaire, I presume he regards himself as not being on the bargain-counter any longer, but fit to have his reputation rated with that of the Baldwins. In the famous Apthorp case you pleaded, with abundant reason, that the reputation of a millionaire was worth more than that of a poor man.” Then, seeing a puzzled expression on the face of his brother attorney, Lawyer Sturgis continued:-- “Perhaps you have not read all the latest news from the gold fields. The syndicate has raised its offer for the Rattlesnake Mine to two million dollars.” “But how does that affect this question?” asked Stimson, who was still in the dark. “John Wycliff is a half owner in the Rattlesnake mine.” “That makes a difference.” “Wycliff would prefer to have this case go to court. He would like to show up these immaculate Baldwins--these Christian philanthropists--in their true attitude toward labor. Only one reason impels him to a private settlement. Jehu Baldwin, who would be shown up as the principal transgressor, is little more than a boy, and less to blame than his father who set him on,” said Sturgis. “But,” protested Stimson, “are you not taking a great deal for granted on very slight evidence?” “By no means,” replied Sturgis. “We have full proof of every step of this whole crime, from the time when Zechariah Baldwin, on his own premises, persuaded his son Jehu to set this trap for Wycliff, until the instant when Jehu Baldwin threw his pistol upon Wycliff’s lawn. A kind Providence, more than his own exertions, has placed full proof in my client’s possession. You and I, Stimson, are both too old, and have won too honorable a place at the Berkshire Bar to indulge in a game of bluff, and I have something here which will convince you that I am not bluffing.” He opened his safe, and took from it a photograph. “Do you recognize anything in that picture?”