Mosier about
that."
"Huh!... Mosier hain't apt to tell _me_. Seems like I was sort of
int'rested in that thing. I can't manage nohow to git the facts, so I
thought I'd talk to you."
"I can't help you. I have no right to talk about a client's confidential
matters."
"To be sure.... How's business?"
"Not very good."
"Not gittin' rich, eh?"
Young Bones looked unhappy, for making both ends meet was a problem he
had not mastered as yet.
Scattergood got up, closed the door, and walked softly back to the desk.
He drew from his pocket the roll of bills, and spread them out in
alluring pattern.
"Them's your'n," said he.
"Mine? How? What for?"
"I'm swappin' with you."
"For what, Mr. Baines?" A slight perspiration was noticeable on young
Lawyer Bones's brow.
"Information," said Scattergood, looking him in the eye. As the young
man did not speak, Scattergood continued, "about Mosier's title matter."
For an instant the young man stood irresolute; then he reached slowly
over, gathered up the money into a neat roll--while Scattergood watched
him intently--and then, with suddenly set teeth, hurled the roll into
Scattergood's face, and leaped around the desk.
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