"You're determined to force your way in here?" exclaimed the lawyer.

"Yes, sir."

The judge banged the desk with his fist.

"But I won't allow it! I have something to say, you know! I can't permit this to go on. I represent my client, Mr. Howard Jeffries, Sr., and he won't consent to my taking up your husband's case."

There was a shade of sarcasm in Annie's voice as she asked calmly:

"Can't you do it without his consent?"

The lawyer looked at her grimly.

"I can," he blurted out, "but--I won't."

Her eyes flashed as she replied quickly.

"Well, you ought to----"

The lawyer looked up in amazement.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"It's your duty to do it," she said quietly. "Your duty to his son, to me, and to Mr. Jeffries himself. Why, he's so eaten up with his family pride and false principles that he can't see the difference between right and wrong. You're his lawyer. It's your duty to put him right.

It's downright wicked of you to refuse--you're hurting him. Why, when I was hunting around for a lawyer one of them actually refused to take up the case because he said old Brewster must think Howard was guilty or he'd have taken it up himself. You and his father are putting the whole world against him, and you know it."

The judge was staggered. No one in his recollection had ever dared to speak to him like that. He was so astonished that he forgot to resent it, and he hid his confusion by taking out his handkerchief and mopping his forehead.

"I do know it," he admitted.

"Then why do you do it?" she snapped.

The lawyer hesitated, and then he said:

"I--that's not the question."

Annie leaped quickly forward, and she replied:

"It's my question--and as you say, I've asked it fifty times."

The lawyer sat back in his chair and looked at her for a moment without speaking. He surveyed her critically from head to foot, and then, as if satisfied with his examination, said:

"You're going on the stage?"

She nodded.

"I've had a very big offer."

The judge leaned forward, and in a low voice, so that no one in the outer office might hear, he said:

"Well, I'll give you twice as much if you refuse the engagement."

She laughed ironically.

"You mean that my father-in-law will give it," she said lightly. Then she went on:

"You know it's no use your asking me to concede anything unless you agree to defend Howard."

The lawyer shook his head.

"I can't--it's impossible."

"Then neither can I," she exclaimed defiantly.

Judge Brewster could not refrain from smiling. This young woman had actually inveigled him into an argument. Almost mockingly, he said:

"So you're determined to have me."

"Yes," she said simply.

"But I don't argue criminal cases."

"That's just it," she exclaimed eagerly; "my husband is not a criminal.

He is innocent. I don't want a lawyer who is always defending criminals.

I want one who defends a man because he isn't a criminal."

Judge Brewster waved his hand contemptuously.

"Go and see some other lawyer--there are plenty of 'em."

She leaned eagerly forward. Her face was flushed from excitement, her eyes flashed.

"There's only one Judge Brewster," she exclaimed. "He's the greatest lawyer in the world, and he's going to help us. He is going to save Howard's life."

The judge shifted uneasily on his chair. He didn't like this forceful, persistent young woman. Almost fretfully, he said:

"You always say that. Upon my word, I shall begin to believe it soon."

"I shall say it again," she exclaimed, "and again every time I see you."

The lawyer turned round. There was a comic look of despair in his face which would have amused his visitor had her errand not been so serious.

"How often do you intend that shall be?"

"Every day," she replied calmly. "I shall say it and think it until--until it comes true."

Judge Brewster tried to feel angry, although inwardly he had hard work to keep from smiling. With pretended indignation, he said: