Part 30 (1/2)

AN INCIDENTAL GRIEVANCE

Jane Moffat, widow, was sore distressed.

”Without Tom,” she said, ”I don't know what I'll do. Tom was a good man, but unlucky. There was better providers than Tom, but he was better than none.”

This apparent reflection on her late husband did not mean that Mrs.

Moffat confined herself to the financial point of view, for she had been a true and devoted wife, but her present need was great and her present resources were nothing. Furthermore, Tom Moffat certainly had been either unlucky or incapable. Mrs. Moffat, out of her affection for him, chose to attribute their misfortunes to ill luck; another, less considerate, might have said that Tom lacked ability and stability; no one, however, could have said that he was neglectful or indifferent-he did the best he could, and his family always had all he could provide.

Nevertheless, Tom Moffat had drifted from one thing to another, and his wife and two children had drifted with him. He had worked at many things, and in many places, and there had been times when he lacked work entirely. So he left Mrs. Moffat practically nothing when he died.

”The neighbors was good,” continued Mrs. Moffat, ”an' I've got some sewing to do. I was pretty good at that in my younger days, but the children don't give me time to earn much, even if the pay was what it should be. I had to sell some furniture already, an' I don't know what I'll do. We've been going from bad to worse.”

”Didn't he have no insurance?” asked the sympathetic Mrs. Crimmins, whose husband was a member of one of the fraternal organizations.

”Not when he died,” answered Mrs. Moffat. ”Didn't I say he was unlucky?

He had insurance when it didn't mean anything but paying out money, but there ain't any when the time comes for getting it back.”

”They can't take your money an' not give you nothing for it,” declared Mrs. Crimmins.

”Sure they can!” said Mrs. Moffat.

”I say they can't,” insisted Mrs. Crimmins. ”There can't n.o.body do that, if you got the sense to fight. There was a lawyer once told my man so.”

”Well, Tom paid the money, an' it ain't come back to me, has it?”

demanded Mrs. Moffat, as if that settled the question.

”You ain't tried to get it, that's why!” retorted Mrs. Crimmins. ”You go see a lawyer. He'll make 'em pay, an' he won't charge you a cent if he don't get the money. Some might, but I'll tell you one that won't.”

Mrs. Moffat was not in a position to overlook even a slight chance to get any money, especially if it cost nothing to make the attempt. She knew less about insurance than Mrs. Crimmins, and Mrs. Crimmins had only wild, weird, second-hand notions. Still, Mrs. Crimmins talked confidently, and Mrs. Moffat finally took the address of the lawyer recommended to her. This, of course, was a mistake-it would have been better to go direct to the insurance company. But the impression prevails in some quarters that insurance companies are ready to take advantage of any technicality to escape the payment of claims, and that a lawyer's services are necessary to compel them to pay anything that can possibly be questioned. Some lawyers, for their own purposes, encourage this idea. Isaac Hinse, to whom Mrs. Moffat went, was one of this cla.s.s.

”You did well to come to me,” he said pompously, as soon as she had stated her errand. ”What chance has a woman, with no knowledge of the law, against a great corporation that has big lawyers engaged for the sole purpose of bulldozing or fooling the ignorant? Fortunately, I know how to deal with them. Now, where is this policy?”

”Tore up,” answered Mrs. Moffat.

”What!” cried Hinse.

”Tom tore it up when he couldn't pay any more on it. I ain't looking for the whole thousand dollars, but only to get back what he paid in. Mrs.

Crimmins said I could do that.”

Hinse leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully.

”Well,” he said at last, ”that makes more trouble, of course. An insurance company can't escape its obligations because the policy has been destroyed, but it makes it more difficult to prove the claim. Do you know what kind of policy it was?”

”How should I?” returned Mrs. Moffat. ”I'm no lawyer nor no insurance man. I come to you to learn my rights.”

”Quite right, quite right,” conceded Hinse; ”but I must know something of the circ.u.mstances. When was this policy taken out?”

”Fifteen or sixteen years ago,” answered Mrs. Moffat. ”We was doing pretty well then. Tom's aunt left him a bit of money, an' Tom was workin' steady an' I got some money a little later. But Tom was always unlucky. He didn't seem to hold on well, an' we kept movin' an' movin'