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Erle Stanley Gardner and the WRVL and the All-American League were meeting at the Athletic Club in downtown Indianapolis, in a side office off of the main hall, when Darrow barged into the room.
“Good evening gentlemen. I am here to ask what will it take for the WRVL and AAL to settle this case?” He scanned the owners, then looked at Gardner.
“As much as I would enjoy leaving your carcass out to dry in public, Erle, I think it would be in my client’s best interest to settle this case.” Looking around the room he pulls an overstuffed chair to the negotiation table. “Shall we work this out?”
No one moved, and it seemed that no one even breathed for a moment. The air became heavy and people sucked it in hungrily.
Gardner rose slowly, looking at each owner in turn and then to the commish. “ I can say Mr. Darrow, that when myself and the Court of Last Resort took this case, we intended to see it to its completion. I respect your position for your clients, but I can say that it will be a cold day in hell before we settle. Please give my best to your family, and I will see you in the morning. Good evening, Clarence.”
Turning back to his clients, Gardner waited as Darrow preened, setting his clothes just so, and while standing, doffed his hat to the folks surrounding the cherry wood conference table. “ My thoughts exactly, Mr. Gardner. Have a wonderful evening. Gentlemen?” He slowly spun on his heel and left the way he came in.
The famed author turned lawyer slowly smiled and spoke. “Sirs…. I do believe we are going to win this battle. Darrow has underestimated your willingness to take the final base, and we will be the winner.” He smiled wanly. “ I just wish I was younger, so I could easily enjoy it. Now, are we in agreement that…”
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