Silence reigned in the lawyer's office for
three minutes, when the door was reopened and Mose Spriggins'
rubicund face once more adorned the apartment.
"Say, 'Squire, aint there a new kind of insurance consarn 'round
these diggins? I'm thinkin' of gittin' my life insured--not 'cause
there's any kinsumption in our fam'ly, only there's no tellin' when
a feller might peg out. Tell you, 'Squire, I'm sound as a bell."
Mr. Spriggins turned himself around for inspection, and shrugged his
broad shoulders with an air of evident self-esteem.
A lengthy speech might have followed, but our legal friend averted
the catastrophe by informing his client that the Dominion Safety
Fund office was close at hand, and with quiet mien escorted the said
Mr. Spriggins to the door.
A genial "come in" answered the summons of the applicant, and in
another chapter we will be able to inform the reader how the
veritable Mr. Spriggins was sent home rejoicing from the fact that
he had become insured in the Safety Fund.
Phillip Lawson was re-established at his desk, and not wishing to
allow his thoughts to wander to the subject which had hitherto
occupied them, took up a novel that lay upon the opposite shelf.
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