“I should say so!” responded Montague. He was amazed at such a statement, coming from such a source. “How could this continue?” he asked.
“It has continued for a long time,” the Judge answered.
“But why is it not known?”
“It is perfectly well known to every one in the insurance business,” was the answer. “The matter has never been taken up or published, simply because the interests involved have such enormous and widely extended power that no one has ever dared to attack them.”
Montague sat forward, with his eyes riveted upon the Judge. “Go on,” he said.
“The situation is simply this,” said the other. “My friend, Mr. Hasbrook, wishes to bring a suit against the Fidelity Company to compel it to pay to him his proper share of its surplus. He wishes the suit pressed, and followed to the court of last resort.”
“And do you mean to tell me,” asked Montague, “that you would have any difficulty to find a lawyer in New York to undertake such a case?”
“No,” said the other, “not exactly that. There are lawyers in New York who would undertake anything. But to find a lawyer of standing who would take it, and withstand all the pressure that would be brought to bear upon him—that might take some time.”
“You astonish me, Judge.”
“Financial interests in this city are pretty closely tied together, Mr. Montague. Of course there are law firms which are identified with interests opposed to those who control the company. It would be very easy to get them to take the case, but you can see that in that event my friend would be accused of bringing the suit in their interest; whereas he wishes it to appear, as it really is, a suit of an independent person, seeking the rights of the vast body of the policy-holders. For that reason, he wished to find a lawyer who was identified with no interest of any sort, and who was free to give his undivided attention to the issue. So I thought of you.”
“I will take the case,” said Montague instantly.
“It is my duty to warn you,” said the Judge, gravely, “that you will be taking a very serious step. You must be prepared to face powerful, and, I am afraid, unscrupulous enemies. You may find that you have made it impossible for other and very desirable clients to deal with you. You may find your business interests, if you have any, embarrassed—your credit impaired, and so on. You must be prepared to have your character assailed, and your motives impugned in the public press. You may find that social pressure will be brought to bear on you. So it is a step from which most young men who have their careers to make would shrink.”
Montague’s face had turned a shade paler as he listened. “I am assuming,” he said, “that the facts are as you have stated them to me—that an unjust condition exists.”
“You may assume that.”
“Very well.” And Montague clenched his hand, and put it down upon the table. “I will take the case,” he said.
For a few moments they sat in silence.
“I will arrange,” said the Judge, at last, “for you and Mr. Hasbrook to meet. I must explain to you, as a matter of fairness, that he is a rich man, and will be able to pay you for your services. He is asking a great deal of you, and he should expect to pay for it.”
Montague sat in thought. “I have not really had time to get my bearings in New York,” he said at last. “I think I had best leave it to you to say what I should charge him.”
“If I were in your position,” the Judge answered, “I think that I should ask a retaining-fee of fifty thousand dollars. I believe he will expect to pay at least that.”
Montague could scarcely repress a start. Fifty thousand dollars! The words made his head whirl round. But then, all of a sudden, he recalled his half-jesting resolve to play the game of business sternly. So he nodded his head gravely, and said, “Very well; I am much obliged to you.”
After a pause, he added, “I hope that I may prove able to handle the case to your friend’s satisfaction.”
“Your ability remains for you to prove,” said the Judge. “I have only been in position to assure him of your character.”
“He must understand, of course,” said Montague, “that I am a stranger, and that it will take me a while to study the situation.”
“Of course he knows that. But you will find that Mr. Hasbrook knows a good deal about the law himself. And he has already had a lot of work done. You must understand that it is very easy to get legal advice about such a matter—what is sought is some one to take the conduct of the case.”
“I see,” said Montague; and the Judge added, with a smile, “Some one to get up on horseback, and draw the fire of the enemy!”
And then the great man was, as usual, reminded of a story; and then of more stories; until at last they rose from the table, and shook hands upon their bargain, and parted.
Fifty thousand dollars! Fifty thousand dollars! It was all Montague could do to keep from exclaiming it aloud on the street. He could hardly believe that it was a reality—if it had been a less-known person than Judge Ellis, he would have suspected that some one must be playing a joke upon him. Fifty thousand dollars was more than many a lawyer made at home in a lifetime; and simply as a retaining-fee in one case! The problem of a living had weighed on his soul ever since the first day in the city, and now suddenly it was solved; all in a few minutes, the way had been swept clear before him. He walked home as if upon air.
And then there was the excitement of telling the family about it. He had an idea that his brother might be alarmed if he were told about the seriousness of the case; and so he simply said that the Judge had brought him a rich client, and that it was an insurance case. Oliver, who knew and cared nothing about law, asked no questions, and contented himself with saying, “I told you how easy it was to make money in New York, if only you knew the right people!” As for Alice, she had known all along that her cousin was a great man, and that clients would come to him as soon as he hung out his sign.
His sign was not out yet, by the way; that was the next thing to be attended to. He must get himself an office at once, and some books, and begin to read up insurance law; and so, bright and early the next morning, he took the subway down town.
And here, for the first time, Montague saw the real New York. All the rest was mere shadow—the rest was where men slept and played, but there was where they fought out the battle of their lives. Here the fierce intensity of it smote him in the face—he saw the cruel waste and ruin of it, the wreckage of the blind, haphazard strife.
It was a city caught in a trap. It was pent in at one end of a narrow little island. It had been no one’s business to foresee that it must some day outgrow this space; now men were digging a score of tunnels to set it free, but they had not begun these until the pressure had become unendurable, and now it had reached its climax. In the financial district, land had been sold for as much as four dollars a square inch. Huge blocks of buildings shot up to the sky in a few months—fifteen, twenty, twenty-five stories of them, and with half a dozen stories hewn out of the solid rock beneath; there was to be one building of forty-two stories, six hundred and fifty feet in height. And between them were narrow chasms of streets, where the hurrying crowds overflowed the sidewalks. Yet other streets were filled with trucks and heavy vehicles, with electric cars creeping slowly along, and little swirls and eddies of people darting across here and there.
These huge buildings were like beehives, swarming with life and activity, with scores of elevators shooting through them at bewildering speed. Everywhere was the atmosphere of rush; the spirit of it seized hold of one, and he began to hurry, even though he had no place to go. The man who walked slowly and looked about him was in the way—he was jostled here and there, and people eyed him with suspicion and annoyance.