The Judge shuffled his big feet as if to rise.
"Sit still!" John growled. "I've come here to-night to demand of you two things."
"You're in no position to demand anything of me!" spluttered Butler, running his hand nervously through his heavy black hair.
"Two things," John went on evenly: "First revoke your order and restore me to my law practice to-morrow morning."
"Not until you apologise for your criticism."
"That's what I'm doing now. I profoundly regret the incident. I should have kicked you across the street—criticism was an error of judgment."
Butler shambled to his feet, trembling with rage, pulled nervously at his beard again and gasped:
"How dare you insult me in my house!"
"It's my house!" flashed the angry answer.
"Your house?" the Judge stammered, again tugging at his beard.
"Yes, sit down."
The astonished jurist dropped into his chair, his shifting basilisk eyes dancing with a new excitement.
"Your house, your house—why, what—what!"
"Yes and you're going to vacate it within two weeks."
