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Newspaper Page Text
By George Elmer Cobb
"You must beg me off.'.'.
"It can't be done, Mr. Walton."
"I have a most important deal on
absence from my office or neglect
might imperil thousands."
"Sorry, but the judge absolutely
refuses to accept an excuse. Should
you fail to respond to the summons
you risk a jaU sentence for contempt
Thus over the telephone, Arthur
Walton at one end, his lawyer at the
other, both anxious and excited.
Arthur Walton, broker, hung up"
the receiver with almost a groan. He
glanced at his watch. He was sum
moned for jury service at 10. It
lacked only 20 minutes of that hour.
"I am going to court," he curtly
informed the office boy. "Hold any
callers until ll'. By that time I win,
either return or send a message."
Then Walton swung from his of
fice, distracted and worried. He tried
to think up all kinds of excuses to
pVesent to the judge to release him
from jury duty. Three squares pro
ceeded, a breathless hail halted him.
It came from his office boy.
"Oh, Mr. Walton," panted the boy,
"Mr. Gregory is at the office and says
if he can't see you at once he will
have to go to some other broker
with those Interstate Electric bonds."
Walton wavered. He grew almost
pale. To lose the sale of the bonds
meant to lose a possible $5,000.
"Tell him I can't come," he fair
ly groaned, recalling the warning of
his lawyer. "Maybe at noon. - More
land!" Walton shouted the name and
dashed across the street He caught
sight of a shabbily dressed, dissipat
ed looking man. There was an ex
pression in Walton's eyes like that fit
a shipwrecked .jailor catching at a
life buoy. He graspec at the arm of
the man, pulled him to 'one side and
. demanded abruptly
"Morelarid, do you want to make
The other stared at his interlocu
tor incredibly. Then his tricky eyes
"Do I?" he cried covetously. "Try
"Can I trust you? Are you sober
and honorable enough to carry o.ut
what you undertake? Listen and
don't lose a moment. Here is a writ
summoning me as a juror in branch
2 of the criminal court Here is my
'You Miserable Wretch!'
card. I can't serve without losing
a lot of money. Go as my substitute.
Answer to my name. No one knows
me in the court. 4 Serve the week or
two weeks as Arthur Walton, and,
yes, I'll give you $200 the day you
bring me your juror certificate."
"That's settled," announced More-land,-
scamp and conscienceless mer
cenary. "I'll do the job and none the
wiser. An advance would give me
better courage, though."
"Here," and Walton co'untect' out