Strange to say he did not harbor ill-will to Hubert Tracy. He pitied
him with a tender pity, and mourned for the wreck of a life that had
such a good beginning. But Mr. Lawson had a feeling of enmity
towards his contemporaries in the far west. He could ill repress the
angry feelings that arose when the scheme presented itself in all
its horrid reality.
"What ground for bringing the gang to the scratch and making a
startling expose of our legal brethren; yes, nice brethren too."
No wonder that Mr. Lawson felt ashamed of his fraternity. If the
shades of Coke and Blackstone could only arise--what a reckoning
would be made. What a scene--aye, one that would need a Milton to
describe.
Thoughts akin to these were passing through the young lawyer's mind
when he suddenly recalled the cause. The heavy brows are contracted
and a scowl appears. "The wicked flourish for a season and so may
you, my happy friends, but your happiness is not of the enduring
kind." Another scowl. "But if he succeeds I am miserable," muttered
Phillip Lawson, his countenance betraying deep agitation. "But I
will not suffer her to become a sacrifice. Heaven forbid."
There was determination in the tone and in the gesture which
accompanied it.
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