PAINTED ROCK
working in his shirt-sleeves at a table covered with papers, and he stood gazing at the lawyer with a complicated feeling of contempt and respect. It took Jack about a minute and a half to sign his name, and he felt that it was impossible to despise Remington quite so thoroughly as he wished when he saw the disturber of Scurry County write about twenty words in half the time. And then Remington looked up.
"He has a keen eye," said Jack. "I dunno, maybe he won't scare worth a cent."
"Well, sir," said the lawyer, "and what can I do for you?"
"You don't remember me?" said Jack.
"I can't say I do," replied Remington.
"I'm Jack Higginson, from Ennis Crick, Scurry County," said Jack, "and I mind seein' you out to Mr. Griggs a month back."
Remington nodded.
"Ah, to be sure, I think I remember you now. What can I do for you, Mr. Higginson? Anything in the legal way?"
"Not much," said Jack; "I do despise havin' anythin' to do with law, and so does
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