Rising in the World CHAPTER 8.
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"Too slow — too slow. I must go up faster. Harker gets the lion's share of reputation and profit. It is time there was some new arrangement."
Dunbar was alone, and walking uneasily about. Five years had passed since his co-partnership with Mr. Harker, and still his interest in the business was only a fifth, although by his efforts he had increased the practice and income of the office. True, he had accumulated about ten thousand dollars, which he was using in such a way that netted him from fifteen to twenty per cent, annually.
In the meantime, his sisters had married honest and industrious mechanics, and for thus degrading him — had been virtually disowned. He never even paid them the compliment of a visit, and if he met them by chance, treated them with chilling formality. Old Mr. Dunbar still kept his grocery, but the expense of sustaining his son for so many years had sapped the foundation of his business, and he now found himself involved in debts which he saw no hope of paying. Still he struggled on, without assistance or sympathy from hisunnatural child, who, by the diversion of ten or fifteen hundred dollars from his own selfish projects, might have relieved his parent from a burden under which he felt himself sinking.
For some time, he had been dissatisfied with the share of profit he obtained in the business of the office. Harker, who felt a pride in his old student, had taken pains, from the first, to push Dunbar forward in all important cases; and by this means gave him prominence which, alone, he would not have gained for twenty years. This great advantage, with a fifth of the profits of the business, Harker had considered ample remuneration. His own expenses were very large; for both himself and family were expensive in their habits. While Dunbar, upon one-fifth of the practice, was saving at least two thousand dollars a year — Harker usually spent all he made, and was, in fact, notwithstanding an income of over ten thousand dollars per annum, a poor man.
"I think I can stand alone," Dunbar continued, uttering his thoughts aloud as he walked the floor of his office. "There are at least half a dozen of our clients of whom I am sure, and out of them, if I manage it right, I can get at least as much as the whole of my present income."
While thus meditating, a stranger entered, and asked if either Mr. Harker or Mr. Dunbar was in.
"My name is Dunbar," said the young attorney, bowing.
"Ah! Then you are the one I wish to see. I have a claim against a distant relative, involving a large amount of property, out of which I have for a long time been unjustly held, and for the recovery of which I have determined to appeal to the law. The terms I have to propose to counsel, are a fee of ten thousand dollars if successful — and nothing ifunsuccessful."
Dunbar made careful inquiries as to the nature of the claim, and took two or three days for examination into its foundation and the law bearing upon it. He was satisfied from this investigation that the claim was, to some extent, founded in justice; and there were strong points in the case, which gave hope of a successful outcome.
In the course of his conference with the individual who wished to prosecute this claim, Dunbar found that he put much more confidence in his ability than he did in that of Mr. Harker, and once or twice inquired whether Mr. Harker would object to any legal advantage that it might be found necessary to take. A few days reflection decided the mind of Dunbar, and he said to his client, whose name was Malcolm —
"I have been for some time meditating a separation from Harker, and have, at length, determined upon taking that step. If you will defer the opening of this suite for a couple of months, I will be ready to undertake it myself, and prosecute it with undivided energy."
"Nothing could be more agreeable," returned Malcolm. "I will defer the matter as you suggest." And so it was deferred until Dunbar could arrange and settle all that appertained to his contemplated dissolution with his old preceptor, who received his proposition with astonishment. Nothing that Harker could say had any effect upon Dunbar. His mind was fully made up for a separation, and it took place accordingly.
From all that appears, this was an unwise act for Dunbar; but he had thoughts and intentions in regard to the new case, expressed to none. What these were, will appear in the end.
As soon as the young attorney launched from the shore in his own boat, he took up the important case that had been offered to him, and made a vigorous demonstration upon the party in possession of the property to be litigated. Of course there was a defense, which was entrusted, as he had shrewdly anticipated from his knowledge of the party concerned, to an attorney of tact and shrewdness, with principles just about as ethical as his own. The two legal gentlemen entered into close conference from the first, though to all appearances, they were almost as hostile as their respective clients.
Before commencing a suit, Malcolm, who had a small business, by means of which he was barely able to support his family, had made sundry efforts to compromise his claim. He had even offered to take a sum as small as thirty thousand dollars, although the amount in dispute was over one hundred thousand. But all such overtures were rejected. No sooner, however, was the suit commenced, and the terms upon which Dunbar had undertaken its prosecution known, than an offer was made to Malcolm to settle the matter by paying him the sum he had previously demanded. This fact, he immediately communicated to his lawyer, and asked if he had not better accept the proposition.
"Accept it?" returned Dunbar, with well-assumed surprise. "No! Nor even double the amount! Your case is as clear as noon-day. I have already stated it to two of our judges, and they agree with me that you have everything on your side. The very fact that an offer to compromise has been made, shows that the defendant's counsel has been acute enough to see the weak parts of his case, and to advise the course that has been taken. He's as timid as a rabbit, at any rate; and a mere old woman at the bar. I am astonished at his being employed in a case involving so much."
Thus assured, Malcolm declined the offer.
That evening the plaintiff's and defendant's lawyers met at the office of the former.
"Have you seen Malcolm?" was the first question asked.
"Yes," replied Dunbar. "He was here this morning."
"And wanted to settle the matter, I suppose."
"Oh, yes. He was warm at first, but I soon satisfied him that it would be folly to do so. I suppose you might induce your client to offer six or forty thousand dollars in order to get a clear title to his remaining property."
"Yes, I think that might be done. It will be easy for me to show him that the chances are two to one against him, if he permits the suit to go on."
"The easiest thing in the world. When do you see your client?"
"I shall see him early tomorrow."
"You think, then, that we might get something like thirty thousand dollars out of him?"
"Yes. But it will not do to let the matter be settled before some heavy costs are made to accrue, which Malcolm will have to pay off before he can begin de novo, after I throw you out on a demurrer, and which, of course, he will not be able to settle."
"That is all understood, of course. What I don't like in this matter, is being thrown out of the case on a demurrer, a circumstance that is never creditable to a lawyer. I may gain fifteen or twenty thousand dollars, but will not my reputation as an acute lawyer suffer too severely? I sometimes think it will."
"A bird in the hand, is worth two in the bush. A chance like this does not occur every day."
"I am well aware of that."
"Money is power, you know. With plenty of money, you may set the world at defiance."
"But I don't call fifteen or twenty thousand dollars plenty of money."
"Though a very important sum in the process of accumulation."
"Yes, there is no doubt of that. I think," Dunbar added, after reflecting for some moments, "that some less apparent defect might be substituted for the one I have admitted, and which would not reflect so strongly upon my lack of legal acumen."
"And by doing so, jeopardize the result."
"I am safe for ten thousand, you know; and I am not sure that I ought not to be satisfied with that and the reputation success in this case will give me."
"If you were absolutely certain of success, then what you say has some force. But, of that, you are by no means sure. We have all the money on our side, and can oppose you with any required force of counsel; and even in the case of a decision adverse to our interests, meet all the costs, and go up with an appeal. You could not settle this matter in two or three years, if we give you battle in good earnest, as we certainly shall, and then the result is doubtful. None know better than you and I, how little calculation is to be made on the decision of Courts."
Dunbar did not reply to this; but sat with his eyes fixed upon the floor. His companion after a few moments, resumed —
"My fee in this case is to be five thousand dollars if successful, and one thousand if I fail. If I throw you out on the demurrer, and thus completely kill Malcolm, I will get my five thousand, of course. I can therefore afford, if we get thirty thousand dollars out of old Harrison, to let your share be twenty thousand, and take ten myself. How will that do?"
"It looks rather better, I must confess," said Dunbar; "and it shall stand so, if you can arrange all upon the terms proposed."
"I will accomplish it without doubt, unless I have mistaken my man."
This settled, the friends in iniquity parted.
Lawrence Dunbar was far from feeling easy in mind about this affair. Not that he was troubled by anything his conscience ventured to suggest, for that spoke in such low whispers that the words rarely arose to an audible murmur. But he was fearful lest he was playing too high. Two individuals, at least, would know him to be a scoundrel, and the knowledge of that fact, with indubitable proofs thereof, he did not think safe in anybody's hands. But the temptation had proved too strong for him, and he was committed to an extent that made it doubtful whether to retreat was not more perilous than to advance.
Thus it is that evil blinds her votaries. It is easy to walk in the plain path of rectitude; but few can tread the devious ways of the wrong-doer, without bewilderment at some point, and doubt whether to go forward or seek to retrace the steps that have been taken.
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