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"Is it yourself, Judge Girvin?" replied McGlynn, "I'm just telling this young man that he can't have the job of driving my little California canaries for but one day because I've hired a fine lawyer from the East at two hundred and seventy-five a month to drive my mules for me." "You have done well," Judge Girvin in his grave, courteous tones.
"Which would you advise?" asked Keith seriously. "That is a matter for your own judgment. Only, investigate well. Meet all the people you can. Know the newspaper men, and the big merchants. In your profession you must cultivate men like Terry, Girvin, Shattuck, Gwin. Keep your eyes open. Be bold and use your wits. Above all, make friends; that's it, make friends everybody, everywhere.
At the first some of the cooler heads thought it might be well to reason with him. "The man has run a muck," said old Judge Girvin, "and while I am far from denying that In many perhaps in most cases his facts are correct, still his methods make for lawlessness among the masses. It might be well to meet him reasonably, and to expostulate."
Judge Girvin, flushing, arose with dignity, "I wish you good-day, sir," he said coldly, and at once withdrew. Keith had been watching King with the keenly critical, detached, analytical speculation of the lawyer. He carried away with him the impression of a man inspired. At the engine house, to which the discomfited delegation withdrew, there was more discussion.
"It seems to me, sir," he answered, when Judge Girvin had quite finished, "that if abuses exist they should be exposed until they are remedied; and that the remedy should come from the law." "What is your impelling motive?" asked the judge. "Why have you so suddenly taken up this form of activity? Do you feel aggrieved in any way personally?"
"Well," he remarked comfortably, "on that low average we must have quite a few innocent men among us after all." "What do you mean, sir?" demanded Judge Girvin, halted in mid career and not catching the allusion. "Surely, Judge, you don't mean to imply that you endorse Coleman and his gang?" put in Calhoun Bennett courteously but incredulously. "Endorse them? Certainly not!" disclaimed Caldwell.
Keith stared in astonishment at the depth of hatred stirred. He turned for explanation to the man next him, Judge Girvin, a gentleman of the old school, weighty, authoritative, a little pompous. "That is Coleman," Judge Girvin told him. "W.T. Coleman, the leader of the vigilance movement of last year."
"I told you I didn't know anything about it!" They checked themselves, suddenly ashamed of their heat. Calhoun Bennett voiced their feeling of apology. "Yo' must accept our excuses, Mr, Keith, but this is a mattah on which we feel strongly. Our indignation was naturally not directed against yo', suh." But Judge Girvin, ponderous, formal, dignified, was making a pronouncement.
None of the younger men ventured a word. Finally Judge Girvin, with a belated idea of upholding the honour of the bench, turned to Keith. "Judge Caldwell's humour is a little trying at times, but he is essentially sound." The young Englishman, Morrell, uttered a high cackle. "Quite right," he observed; "he'll fix it all right for you, Markle."
Waste of public funds, translated before his eyes into eviction for nonpayment of taxes, took on a new significance. Keith saw plainly that a reform was needed. He was not, on that account, in the least sympathetic with King's methods. Like Judge Girvin, he felt them revolutionary and subversive.
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