The Halifax Comet. — 1904-07-23 (Halifax, West Yorkshire, England)

CHAPTER XXI. "YOUR CLIENT."  Frank Holt and Walker stood facing alai other, the lawyer with his hand gripping toe letter, and with determination written on  his face.  "Do you refuse to answer my question ?" cried the young man. "I do. It is an unreasonable one to ask. You must see that for yourself."  _ "If you knew how nearly this matter concerned me—how vitally it affects my future  _ —you would not refuse.""It would make no difference," retorted the solicitor, in a hard tone. "My client's ii3crets are mine also." Frank Holt for a moment stood quivering from head to foot. It was certain this man would not give way. Suddenly an idea came into his head, and dashing his hand into his breast-pocket he drew out an envelope. It contained a copy of the photograph of the letter supposed to have been written by him —the letter which bad drawn Hugh Tremaine from his house that fatal evening.  "Look at the writing in that photograph, Mr. Walker. I shall be satisfied if you tell me it does not resemble the writing of the tatter you hold in your hand." "I will look at the photograph, but I decline to bind myself to give you that or any answer," was the cautious rejoinder. Frank pushed the photographic copy across the table ; the solicitor examined it carefully; and handed it back without a word. "Well ? "  "I have nothing to say." "But," persisted Frank, excitedly. "will you not admit that the two words in each -my name, Frank Holt—are identical ? " _.  "I can only repeat I have nothing to say. The young man drew a long breath. For an instant, in his exasperation, he was tempted to wrest the letter from the lawyer, but he felt the consequences might be somewhat unpleasant. No, nothing was to be gained by violence, ..and all he could think of was to discover if there were not some legal process by which Mr. Walker could be compelled to disclose the information he wanted. "Now you are a little cooler," said the lawyer, who all this time had been studying his visitor's face keenly, "suppose you tell me why you are so anxious to know the name of the writer of this letter." "Because I firmly believe whoever the writer may be, he made a dastardly attempt to cast his own guilt on the shoulders of an innocent man. Does not that justify my demand ? " "I am not going to discuss the merits of the question. It is quite impossible. I know nothing about the murder of Mr. Tremaine, and it is quite certain I have nothing to do with it. I, of course, sympathies with your endeavour to discover the author of such a crime, but I can go no further. see no use in prolonging this interview." Frank Holt was of the same opinion. Nothing could be got out of this hard-headed lawyer. He walked slowly to the door, and as he laid his fingers on the handle • he turned round and said: "I can imagine no one would write to you in reference to me save the man whose money I have already told you I for the future refuse. I believe the two are one and the same, and I warn you, Mr. Walker, I will unearth him in spite of your refusal to help me." He said not another word, but hurried from' the office. "Not a bad guess for an unpractical, romantic artist," murmured the lawyer. al