"
"Oh! Preposterous!" Grind forced a laugh. "That's only an
afterthought."
"Is it. Hark!" Martin bent close to his ear, and uttered a few words
in an undertone. Grind started as if stung by a serpent.
"Wretch!"
"It is useless to call ill names, my friend. I have you in my power;
and I mean to keep you there. But I shall not be very hard on you. So,
don't look so awfully cut down."
For once the scheming, unscrupulous lawyer found himself outwitted.
His tool had proved too sharp for him. Without a doubt he was in his
power to an extent by no means agreeable to contemplate. Grind now saw
that conciliation was far better than antagonism.
When Martin retired from the lawyer's office, he had in his pocket a
check for two hundred dollars, while behind him was left his solemn
pledge to leave the city for New Orleans the next day. The pledge,
when given, he did not intend to keep; and it was not kept, as Grind
soon afterward learned, to his sorrow. A drunkard and a gambler, it
did not take Martin long to see once more the bottom of his purse. Not
until this occurred did he trouble the lawyer again. Then he startled
him with a second visit, and, after a few sharp words, came off with
another check, though for a less amount.
And for years, leech-like, Martin, sinking lower and lower all the
time, continued his adhesion to the lawyer, abstracting continually,
but in gradually diminishing sums, the money needed for natural life
and sensual indulgence, until often his demands went not above a
dollar.
Pages:
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222