“Ah, Mr. Stirling.  Good-morning,” said the man, whose name was Dummer.  “I’ve just left your office, finding it closed.”

“Come in,” said Peter.

The lawyer glanced around the plain room, and a quiet look of satisfaction came over his face.  The two sat down.

“About those cases, Mr. Stirling?”

“Well?”

“For reasons you can easily understand, we don’t wish them to come to trial.”

“Well?”

“And we take it for granted that your clients will be quite willing to settle them.”

“We will talk about that, after the criminal trial is over”

“Why not now?”

“Because we hope to make Coldman speak the truth in the trial, and thus be able to reach Bohlmann.”

“You’re wasting your time.”

“Not if there’s the smallest chance of sending the brewer to prison.”

“There isn’t.  Coldman will stick to what he said if the thing is ever tried, which it won’t be.”

Peter eyed Dummer without changing a muscle.  “The District Attorney told me that it ought to be in the courts in a couple of weeks.”

Dummer smiled blandly, and slowly closed one eye.  “The District Attorney tries to tell the truth,” he said, “and I have no doubt he thought that was what he was telling you.  Now, name your figure?”

“The civil suits will not be compromised till the criminal one is finished.”

“But I tell you the criminal one is dead.  Squashed.  Bohlmann and I have seen the right people, and they’ve seen the District Attorney.  That case won’t even go to the grand jury.  So now, drop it, and say what you’ll settle the civil suits for?”

“James Coldman shall go to prison for killing those children,” said Peter, “and till he does, it is waste time to talk of dropping or settling anything.”

“Humph,” half laughed the lawyer, though with obvious disgust at the mulishness in Peter’s face and voice.  “You think you know it all.  But you don’t.  You can work for ten years, and that case will be no nearer trial than it is to-day.  I tell you, young man, you don’t know New York.”

“I don’t know New York,” said Peter, “but—­”

“Exactly,” interrupted Dummer.  “And I do.”

“Probably,” replied Peter quietly, “You may know New York, Mr. Dummer, but you don’t know me.  That case shall be tried.”

“Well,” laughed Dummer, “if you’ll agree not to press the civil suits, till that’s out of the way, we shall have no need to compromise.  Good-day.”

The next morning Peter went to the District Attorney’s office, and inquired for him.

“He’s gone to Bar Harbor for a couple of weeks’ vacation,” he was told.

“Whom must I see in his stead?” And after some time Peter was brought face to face with the acting official.

“Mr. Nelson told me he should present the Coldman case to the grand jury to-day, and finding he has left the city, I wish to know who has it in charge?” asked Peter.