kindly if I would step this way and Mr. Brooks would see me.
"You are Mr. O'Ruddy, I take it," he said in a tone which I think he thought was affable.
"I am."
"Have you brought with you the papers referred to in this letter?"
"I have."
And with that I slammed them down on the table before him. He untied the bundle and sorted out the different documents, apparently placing them in their right order. After this he adjusted his glasses more to his liking and glanced over the papers rapidly until he came to one that was smaller than the rest, and this he read through twice very carefully. Then he piled them up together at his right hand very neatly, for he seemed to have a habit of old maid's precision about him. He removed his glasses and looked across the table at me.
"Are you the son of the O'Ruddy here mentioned?"
"I am."
"His eldest son?"
"His only son."
"You can prove that, I suppose?"
"Troth, it was never disputed."
"I mean there would be no difficulty in getting legal and documentary proof."
"I think not, for my father said after my first fight, that it might be questioned whether I was my mother's son or no,—there was no doubt that I was his."
The legal man drew down his brows at this, but made no comment as, in tones that betrayed little interest in the affair, he demanded:
