February 25, 1927

Dearest -

One step further from starvation. I had a rather pleasant shock today. Mr. Knepper called me in and asked me how long I had been there. I told him since October 12, something over 4 months. He then told me that my work the past week justified an increase and added 5.00 to the weekly tally. So you see, though we'll not have munificent riches on which to try to get along, we will be faring comparitively well for a young lawyer and his equally young - no younger - bride.

But what makes me a little more vain and conceited is what he said later. "If you keep on, you'll make a good lawyer." Probably what earned the increase was a lucky settlement. On a bluff, on my part, I secured a payment of $155.95 from an insurance co. conferring a direct benefit on the Co. I represented, and an indirect benefit on a third Co., (incidentally earning two if not three fees for the firm). I'll tell you the circumstances one of these days. I had only one statement in my file, and although it was good, I doubt if it was enough to justify the other company in paying. Its my guess that they know something that I didn't, but that they thought I knew.

Mother has pressed my head a little to keep it from swelling, but I'd like to be in Lima now where you could do as much for me. I wish really I could see you oftener. The only solace I find is in thinking from day to day that you'll soon be with me. I know it's going to be a wonderful feeling to have you. I like to shut my eyes and think of coming home to have you meet me at the door; and then sitting here with you of an evening; or of going somewhere with you. I sometimes regret that I've started to be a "regular" at the Lodge because I remember that I'll be away from you. But on nights when I go out on investigations, I've decided that you'll go along, and what might be an arduous duty will become a pleasant task.

I can't picture anything nicer than to be married to you. To call you my sweetheart for all our lives is my first ambition. I'm thanking God for a lot tonight. Everything in my life has been almost a bed of roses; everything has come my way that was at all good for me to have. I've been fortunate in friendship, in work, and especially in love. I've won a beautiful and precious mate, and I'm trusting to Him to give us a long and useful life together.

I'd like sometime to be as good, for instance, to some boy, as Mr. Young was to me. I'd like to be of as much help to some other lad as any number of teachers and friends have been to me. I'd like sometime to make someone as anxious to do something for me as I am now to work for Knepper & Wilcox. And I'd like to be as good a husband to you as your dad was to your mother, or my dad is to my mother. (And I'd like for us someday to be as good parents to some little kiddies as our parents have been to us.)

I love you, Dot, more than I can tell you. Hurry and sell that store!

Andy