``I've come on very unpleasant business, Mr. Ganser,'' said Travis with deference. ``As you know, I am with Loeb, Lynn, Levy and McCafferty. Our client, Mr. Feuerstein--''
Ganser leaped to his feet, apoplectic.
``Get out!'' he shouted, ``I don't speak with you!''
``As an officer of the court, Mr. Ganser,'' said Travis suavely, ``it is my painful duty to insist upon a hearing. We lawyers can't select our clients. We must do our best for all comers.
Our firm has sent me out of kindly feeling for you. We are all men of family, like yourself, and, when the case was forced on us, we at once tried to think how we could be of service to you--of course, while doing our full legal duty by our client.
I've come in the hope of helping you to avoid the disgrace of publicity.''
``Get out!'' growled Peter. ``I know lawyers--they're all thieves. Get out!'' But Travis knew that Peter wished him to stay.
``I needn't enlarge on our client--Mr. Feuerstein. You know he's an actor. You know how they crave notoriety. You know how eager the newspapers are to take up and make a noise about matters of this kind.''
Peter was sweating profusely, and had to seat himself. ``It's outrageous!'' he groaned in German.
``Feuerstein has ordered us to have your daughter brought into court at once--to-morrow. He's your daughter's lawful husband and she's well beyond the legal age. Of course, he can't compel her to live with him or you to support him. But he can force the courts to inquire publicly. And I'm sorry to say we'll not be able to restrain him or the press, once he gets the ball to rolling.''
Peter felt it rolling over him, tons heavy. ``What you talk about?'' he said, on his guard but eager.
``It's an outrage that honest men should be thus laid open to attack,'' continued Travis in a sympathetic tone. ``But if the law permits these outrages, it also provides remedies. Your daughter's mistake may cost you a little something, but there need be no scandal.''
``What do you mean by that?'' asked Ganser.
``Really, I've talked too much already, Mr. Ganser. I almost forgot, for the moment, that I'm representing Mr. Feuerstein.
But, as between friends, I'd advise you to go to some good divorce lawyers--a firm that is reputable but understands the ins and outs of the business, some firm like Beck and Brown. They can tell you exactly what to do.''
Ganser regarded his ``friend'' suspiciously but credulously.
``I'll see,'' he said. ``But I won't pay a cent.''
``Right you are, sir! And there may be a way out of it without paying. But Beck can tell you.'' Travis made a motion toward the inside pocket of his coat, then pretended to change his mind.
``I came here to serve the papers on you,'' he said apologetically. ``But I'll take the responsibility of delaying--it can't make Feuerstein any less married, and your daughter's certainly safe in her father's care. I'll wait in the hope that YOU'LL take the first step.''
Ganser lost no time in going to his own lawyers--Fisher, Windisch and Carteret, in the Postal Telegraph Building. He told Windisch the whole story. ``And,'' he ended, ``I've got a detective looking up the rascal. He's a wretch--a black wretch.''
``We can't take your case, Mr. Ganser,'' said Windisch. ``It's wholly out of our line. We don't do that kind of work. I should say Beck and Brown were your people. They stand well, and at the same time they know all the tricks.''
``But they may play me the tricks.''
``I think not. They stand well at the bar.''
``Yes, yes,'' sneered Peter, who was never polite, was always insultingly frank to any one who served him for pay. ``I know that bar.''
``Well, Mr. Ganser,'' replied Windisch, angry but willing to take almost anything from a rich client, ``I guess you can look out for yourself. Of course there's always danger, once you get outside the straight course of justice. As I understand it, your main point is no publicity?''
``That's right,'' replied Ganser. ``No newspapers--no trial.''
``Then Beck and Brown. Drive as close a bargain as you can. But you'll have to give up a few thousands, I'm afraid.''
Ganser went over into Nassau Street and found Beck in his office. He gazed with melancholy misgivings at this lean man with hair and whiskers of a lifeless black. Beck suggested a starved black spider, especially when you were looking into his cold, amused, malignant black eyes. He made short work of the guileless brewer, who was dazed and frightened by the meshes in which he was enveloped. Staring at the horrid specter of publicity which these men of craft kept before him, he could not vigorously protest against extortion. Beck discovered that twenty thousand was his fighting limit.
``Leave the matter entirely in our hands,'' said Beck. ``We'll make the best bargain we can. But Feuerstein has shrewd lawyers--none better. That man Loeb--'' Beck threw up his arms.
``Of course,'' he continued, ``I had to know your limit. I'll try to make the business as cheap for you as possible.''
``Put 'em off,'' said Ganser. ``My Lena's sick.''
His real reason was his hopes from the reports on Feuerstein's past, which his detective would make. But he thought it was not necessary to tell Beck about the detective.
