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Ninety Days Inside The Empire: A Novel by William Appleman Williams

A Visit with The Judge

Page 35

Long before that, old Doc Paul had walked into Marsh's office with Mrs. Frankel and demanded that he file suit against what Paul called "that Goddamn corporation." Marsh tried to explain how long the odds were, but they were insistent. He finally agreed to look into it. Dr. Paul pulled out a check for $500 and with a grim smile slid it across the desk. "That ought to help keep your mind on the job."

Marsh started with reading the law, and then began going north to the corporation headquarters so often that he had to buy galoshes, a heavy coat and a fur cap with ear muffs. He got into it so deep that even when he ran sweat he took to wearing the fur car to maintain his and the community's spirit.

The corporation first told Marsh he was wastin' his time.

"You have not got a prayer, Mr. Harland."

"This is not a church matter, Sir. We will be in a court of law."

Then they said that just maybe they'd file in their state court on a charge of malicious harassment. Marsh snookered them by filing at home on a charge of criminal negligence. Then they offered a new machine. Marsh did not even bother to answer the telegram.

The case opened in Gadsden before a jury of three farmers, two mechanics, one local farm dealer, two grocers, the barber and two bankers. Also one horse breeder. That was mostly Marsh's cleverness and patience in avoiding the charge of bias while getting everyone who had a stake in farming. On the first day he called Dr. Paul and the medical expert from Birmingham who had put Frankel's legs back together. He also placed in evidence several photographs.

At ten o'clock the next morning Marsh had the corporation's agent from Huntsville sworn. The corporation's head lawyer asked for a talk in the judge's chambers. There he offered full compensation along with a lump sum payment if the suit was dismissed without prejudice. On the following morning The Judge suggested a more generous agreement out of court.

Marsh banked two good fees. One was in reputation within and outside the community. The cash he somewhat absent-mindedly invested in artesian water rights in west Texas. After that he saw the Frankels mostly once a year when they asked him to dinner on the anniversary of the victory.

-- Yet here I am comin' up on their porch to ask for help. I think Henry was right: This is not such a good idea. He started to turn back.

Too late. Mrs. Frankel waved to him. "Why, Mr. Harland, what you doin' out here?"

-- She's funnin' me.

"Seein' some friends and I was nearby so -"

"Frederick's just in from the field, so come along and visit."

Frankel appeared on the porch. "Saw you watering your horse at the creek and figured you was on a meander."

"So I am, Mr. Frankel....

-- Just do it, Marsh.

"I'm lookin' for some advice from good farmers like yourself."

"About farm machinery?"

They laughed easily, but not for very long.

"Let's be blunt, Mr. Harland. I'm not much of a public man. Maybe not even too good a neighbor. But I do hear a bit about what's goin' on around me, and I think you are wandering to find some help for a person who needs it."

"You know who that is?"

"No, and I don't really care. But I trust you and know you do your best."

-- By God you sure do take your time puttin' the butter on the sweet corn.

"This person came to me for help to keep some good land from a bank. The land is special to this person. I am talkin' to people to help her pick what to plant this year to pay the bank."