Some catastrophe had overtaken him, or
impended, beside which the ugly matter Hollister laid before him was
of no consequence.
But it was of consequence to Hollister, as vital as the breaker of
water and handful of ship's biscuits is to castaways in an open boat
in mid-ocean. It angered him to feel a matter of such deep concern
brushed aside. He walked on down the street, thinking what he should
do. Midway of the next block, a firm name, another concern which dealt
in timber, rose before his eyes. He entered the office.
"Mr. MacFarlan or Mr. Lee," he said to the desk man.
A short, stout individual came forward, glanced at Hollister's scarred
face with that involuntary disapproval which Hollister was accustomed
to catch in people's expression before they suppressed it out of pity
or courtesy, or a mixture of both.
"I am Mr. MacFarlan."
"I want legal advice on a matter of considerable importance,"
Hollister came straight to the point. "Can you recommend an able
lawyer--one with considerable experience in timber litigation
preferred?"
"I can.
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