Geary had
broken from his old-time habit of smoking only so many cigars as he
could pay for by saving carfare. He was doing so well now that he could
afford to smoke whenever he chose. He was still with the great firm of
Beale & Storey, and while not in the partnership as yet, had worked up
to the position of an assistant. He had cases of his own now, a great
many of them, for the most part damage suits against that certain
enormous corporation whom it was said was ruining the city and entire
state. Geary posed as one of its bitterest enemies, pushing each suit
brought against it with a tireless energy, with a zeal that was almost
vindictive. He began to fit into his own niche, in the eyes of the
public, and just in proportion as the corporation was hated, Geary was
admired. Money came to him very fast. He was hardly thirty at this time,
but could already be called a rich man.
His "deal" with Vandover had given him a taste for real estate, and now
and then, with the greatest caution, he made a few discreet investments.
At present he had just completed a row of small cottages across the
street from the boot and shoe factory.
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