This story sounded mighty fishy to me, but I refrained from expressing myself. He had the grip, that much I knew, but why he should wish to retain possession of it was more than I could comprehend. Of one thing I was certain, there was something underlying" this man's motives for acting as he did, and I would have given a good deal at that moment to have possessed the ability to read his mind. In speaking of the check, he said that he had not called at the bank for several days, but that, upon his last visit, the bank officials were still undecided as to what to do.
Driving along until I came to a secluded spot and where I believed we would meet with no interruption, I pulled up the horse and after bringing him to a full stop, I turned in the buggy, and facing my attorney, gave him such a look as I believed would lend emphasis to my remarks, and after hesitating for a moment, during which time I never changed my expression, I asked:
"How much, sir, do I owe you for your trouble?"
Replying he said, "I dislike to name any price until I have accomplished something more for you."
"I want to know," said I, "just where we stand."
"I think I can do something for you before many days," he answered.
"How soon," I asked.
"Don't like to say definitely," he replied.
"Got to have something definite, and tonight," I told him.
"Well," said he, "I don't like to jump in and make a botch of the job. If I can have a little more time, I believe that everything will come out all right."
"How much will I owe you for your services when you get through with this job?" I asked.
"My charges won't amount to much," he evasively replied, and added, "you know I haven't really done very much."
"Now look here," said I, "I am willing to give you just one more chance — just one and that will end the matter. If you can secure and deliver to me both the grip and money and will do so by tomorrow night, the privilege is yours, but after that time, I must look elsewhere for assistance."
I then informed him that I had a brother in Chicago, an attorney, and that, if he failed to make good within the time specified. I would go on to Chicago and place the matter in my brother's hands.
"My brother in Chicago" was all a myth, but it seemed to have the desired effect, as the attorney assured me it would be useless to go to the expense of having my brother come all the way from Chicago to Boston to look after my affairs, as it would mean a matter of a few days at the very outside and possibly not that long, "Not one day longer than tomorrow," I interrupted.
"Well," said he, "I will do what I can, and if you will call me up late in the afternoon, I will give you the result of my efforts."
I agreed to this, and after returning him to the car line, I drove back to the barn, turning the rig over to the liveryman in person.
Although disappointed and vexed over the way things had turned out, I felt confident that the morrow would bring a change for the better, and that my long-looked-for grip would be forthcoming with the next visit of my attorney. I had given him my ultimatum and he seemed to appreciate the situation before leaving me and was undoubtedly impressed with the fact that I would put up with no further delays.
Returning to my lodgings, I engaged the room for another night, but my sleep was uncertain, and long 'ere dawn I was up and preparing for action.
I could hope for no move until late in the afternoon, so passed the time wearily, as I had grown impatient and could find neither rest nor amusement until matters became more settled, and I could receive some word of encouragement from my attorney. I was tempted at various times during the day to call him up, but managed to hold off until after 3 o'clock, when I hired another rig and looked about for a favorable meeting place.
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