The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1888-05-16
The Morgan Will.


as l had very little practice, and found
myself with plenty of time on my hands,
i had got into the habit of dropping in
to chat with a news-dealer who kept
stand not far from my office. Old Bowls,
as everybody called him, dealt also in
waste paper and rags, which he sold to
the paper-makers.
One evening he was sorting a lot of
this rubbish, when my practiced eye
lighted on what appeared to be a
legal document, bound with blue tape.
l took it up and saw that it was marked
Last viii and Testament"
l opened it and commenced to read:
"In the name of God: Amen.
Know all men by these presents, that
1, James Morgan, being of sound mind
and disposing memory, do make and
publish this my last will and testament"
What's that you say?" demanded
Bowls, as he dropped a handful of
paper and looked up at me.
repeated what had read.
"All right" he said. CHOW read
on, Squire"
l give and bequeath to my adopted
daughter, Elizabeth Morgan, otherwise
known as Elizabeth Summers all my
personal and real property, after the
payment of my funeral expenses and
my just debts"
Heavensl' exclaimed Bowls, Il" that
must be the will of old Morgan, who
died four years ago-it was said intes-
tate. He left not less than a hundred
thousand dollars that all went to re-
mote heirs, though everybody expected
it would have been left to this very
E1;1ohoth l. oil X
ter"
"What has become of the adopted
daughter?" l asked.
81 do not know, but / think l can
find out"
elbow much of this property is real
estate, and where is it situated?"
"Well, there is the Oakdale planta-
ton, which lies about five miles out from
here and is worth at least fifty thousand
dollars. Then there are several houses
in town also, besides twenty-five thou
sand dollars in government securities. !"
"Who is the relative that got the
property?"
"Simon Skaggs. He lives out at the
Oakdale farm. l think he is second
cousin to Mr.. Morgan
What kind of man is he?'
GA mean old skinfnt, or he would
never have taken the last penny from
that poor girl"
"Well," said l, 81 propose to take
this will home with me tonight and
examine it carefully. If l find it all
right, We'll hunt up the girl and recover
the property for her."
To this he assented, and, depositing
the document in my pocket, l babe the
old man goodnight and returned to my
office, where l slept.
But l was too much excited for sleep.
locked my door, and, sitting down,
read the instrument over slowly and
carefully. There was but the one lega-
tee mentioned. The will was clear and
simple. 1t bore the appearance of being
genuine, and had evidently been drawn
by one thoroughly acquainted with the
necessary legal forms.
The longer l pondered over it the
more | became convinced that / had at
last stumbled upon an interesting case
one which, if properly managed, could
not fail to bring Inc reputation and
right a great wrong besides.
The next afternoon | went to Bowls
store. He was alone, waiting for me.
I" l have found where the girl isl
he said, as soon as l told him that the
will was undoubtedly genuine. "She
lives about fifty miles off, in little
place called Friendsville, quite up
among the mountains, on wild hill
farm, where things go on in the most
primitive manner. A distant relative
an aunt three times removed, very poor,
but, it seems, not without heart-heard
of her restitution and sent for her. An
old lady, who used to know the girl and
had her at her house awhile after old
Morgan's death, happened to come in
here, and | asked her if she knew
where Elizabeth Summers was"
81 will go down and see her to.
morrow" said, promptly.
"And bring her back with you," an
swered Bowls as briskly. "My daugh.
ter and will give her home. Well,'
he said, rubbing his hands enthusi
astically, " We'll be too much for ole
Skaggs, after all"
1t was late the next afternoon when
l arrived at my destination, having
made the journey partly by rail and
partly by stage. The coach put me
down at lonely cross-road, from which
l had about two miles to walk.
"Oh, yes-the Widow Benham,
said the driver, pointing with his whip
4" lives up yonder, just around the point
of the mountain. You'll see the house
in ten minutes or So"
1t was a warm, sutry day in August
with not breath of air stirring.
soon caught sight of the house-a plain
unpretending structure, like so man,
in that region. When it was about 20O
yards distant the sound of falling waite
attracted me, apparently coming from
some precipitous rocks on the left. A
was thirsty, | went toward it. AS
turned the corner of cliff handsome
girl about twenty years of age emerged
from sort of cave, bearing on he
shoulder large water-jar. The light
ness with which she stepped from ston
to stone across the brook, the poise o
some sylvan goddess with which sh
bore aloft the jar, made me utter un
consciously an exclamation of sur