"Perfectly true--perfectly true," broke in Jimmy eagerly. "She is my brother's child, and, although we've seen nothing of her, nevertheless I feel that I am far more competent to--to take charge of--the family estate--than she is." "The family estate?" interrupted Mr. Ricaby, elevating his eyebrows. "Yes," said Jimmy boldly. "My brother's estate and mine. You know, the woman he married----" Cooley held up his hand with a deprecating gesture: "Now, please, don't let us go into that phase of the matter. The marriage was kept secret, but we have conceded that it was a marriage. Once and for all, let us have done with this litigation business. My client doesn't want to drag this case through the courts for years. He can if he wants to--but he doesn't. What he wants is--peace and harmony." "And his brother's estate," interrupted Mr. Ricaby sarcastically. Mr. Cooley looked aggrieved. "Ricaby," he said, "that insinuation is not in keeping with the friendly purpose of this meeting. My client is special administrator--an appointee of the Court--and we are acting under the law----" "The law!" exclaimed Mr. Ricaby scornfully. "That's the damnable part of it! You're acting under a law that compels a widow or orphan to spend thousands of dollars on litigation in order to obtain what is theirs by right." Mr. Cooley shrugged his shoulders. "The law is all right." "Then it's dishonest interpretation that's at fault," retorted the other hotly. "Something is rotten somewhere when the courts can be used to legally deprive this girl of her inheritance." Mr. Cooley rolled his eyes and remained unperturbed. Suavely, glibly, he said: "You're repeating yourself, brother Ricaby. So you told the judge, and it didn't do your case a particle of good. That's a sign of weakness. But come, I promised myself not to allow anything to interrupt the peaceful, harmonious flow of events." With an effort at flowery rhetoric, he went on pompously: "Let us bury the legal axe, let's bring flesh and blood together, that they may be reunited over the grave of a buried family feud. Let us bring our clients together on terms of peace. It's a sacred duty we owe our profession, Mr. Ricaby, a duty that exalts our profession over all other callings. The ministry may make peace for man in Heaven, but we are peacemakers here on earth." "Quite true--quite true," chirped Jimmy from the far corner of the room. Mr. Ricaby shrugged his shoulders. "No wonder they call you the silver-lipped orator," he muttered contemptuously. There was a knock at the door, and Mr. Ricaby went forward to see who it was. Speaking to someone in the hall outside, he said: "My clerk? Oh, yes, ask him to come up. No--I'll go down." Turning to the others, he asked: "Will you excuse me for a moment?"