UNCLE JOHN IS PUZZLED Uncle John was off on his errands even before Jones and Arthur Weldon had driven away from the hotel with the officer and Le Drieux.

There had been no "scene" and none of the guests of the hotel had any inkling of the arrest.
Uncle John had always detested lawyers and so he realized that he was sure to be a poor judge of the merits of any legal gentleman he might secure to defend Jones.
"I may as well leave it to chance," he grumbled, as he drove down the main boulevard.

"The rascals are all alike!" Glancing to this side and that, he encountered a sign on a building: "Fred A.Colby, Lawyer." "All right; I mustn't waste time," he said, and stopping his driver he ascended a stairway to a gloomy upper hall.

Here the doors, all in a row, were alike forbidding, but one of them bore the lawyer's name, so Mr.
Merrick turned the handle and abruptly entered.
A sallow-faced young man, in his shirt-sleeves, was seated at a table littered with newspapers and magazines, engaged in the task of putting new strings on a battered guitar.

As his visitor entered he looked up in surprise and laid down the instrument.
"I want to see Colby, the lawyer," began Uncle John, regarding the disordered room with strong disapproval.
"You are seeing him," retorted the young man, with a fleeting smile, "and I'll bet you two to one that if you came here on business you will presently go away and find another lawyer." "Why ?" questioned Mr.Merrick, eyeing him more closely.
"I don't impress people," explained Colby, picking up the guitar again.
"I don't inspire confidence.