Mr. Converse looked at him, and, really liking the fellow, was about to
explain the real facts to him, when a client came in. So he only said,
"If that's so, go ahead. Locate on Broadway, anywhere between the
Battery and Canal Street." Later in the day, when he had time, he shook
his head, and said, "Poor devil! Like all the rest."
Anywhere between the Battery and Canal Street represented a fairly large
range of territory, but Peter went at the matter directly, and for the
next three days passed his time climbing stairs, and inspecting rooms
and dark cells. At the end of that time he took a moderate-sized office,
far back in a building near Worth Street. Another day saw it fitted with
a desk, two chairs (for Peter as yet dreamed only of single clients) and
a shelf containing the few law books that were the monuments of his
Harvard law course, and his summer reading. On the following Monday,
when Peter faced his office door he felt a glow of satisfaction at
seeing in very black letters on the very newly scrubbed glass the sign
of:
PETER STIRLING
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR-AT-LAW.
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