Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1905-12-02
CHATTER XXI

There win be no trade this morning
uncle, David replied, standing In the
doorway. 1t was a week after had told
him the truth. He had been turning ii
over in his mind in the interval.
Why notl David. Il you were near
ly seventy you would be anxious to ger
on; you would not shilly-shally over 3
single biz Of paper Let us get on, Da-
vid. Oh, you've got all the power now.
and l AN In your hands. l won't grum-
bic. David No, take your own time.
my boy; take youC own time"
The poor old man was strangely al
tered in four or FIVE weeks that he
should thus humble himself before his
nephew, But David bad al the power -
long as he bad any q these coupons left.
"Iou little thought Whec I came he-e
that l was gong % give ve2 - usaca
trouble, did you J1c}s Dac,e.E Yea
thought Won hat tas whp &a13 ever 1.e
always, didn't voa2 Bae yea So. s.,
the fall from your ponv. shea ne loss II
your papers. then tie Se-cks. seea .sy
coming home aud in3 - rheSs "a Te-S--
all part VI sAe iudzzs2ss--aaG aaw
there's more 70 follow"
What more? Ga. DAVID. we4e mare =
N-Ne ~ak-N-S ~ N4-%A& N-s4E
To-day, uncle I have Gene - fslk
about my aunt's viii WI Ne;AeScais
told me. Yea did not. You tAoagAt ta&f
as soon Is our lttle business was frish-
ed | should go away AMI never come
back any more. You thought you would
keep the money, did you? Not so, uncle;
not soi'
Il thought you would never find It
NttN T. -
somewhat surprising candor. Il soon
found that you knew nothing about it,
and that you never go about and talk
and l was pretty certain that you would
never find out Well, now you know.
what difference does 1t make? You are
no nearer the money"
I'VE shall see. My aunt might just
as well have left 1t to me as to you.
To be sure, | never thought she had half
so much. She began with a thousand.
She must have pinched and saved. She
left it to Mary, on the condition of her
marrying with your consent; and, if not,
the money was to go to me. And if /
was dead, the will said nothing. So you
thought you could stick to the money.
Uncle, you're a foxy one You ought to
DE in the States, and thirty years young
er. There You would find yourself at
home, with plenty of opportunity. Well.
l am wiser now than | was. And see
now, uncle, | don't mean to 90 away
until this question is settled. What are
you going to do?"
''Why should tell yolT'
Keep it to yourself then. | will tell
you what you thought you were going to
do: I've worked it all out First if you
let George and Mary get married before
the law let's you take Sidcote you will
lose Sidcote." He began in his slow
way, to tick off his points upon his fin
gers. That's the first thing. After
you have got Sidcote, you will be still
loath to let the money 60, and you will
keep Mary waiting en- You think that |
shall soon go. Then you will keep the
money as long as you live. But suppose
they were to marry without your consent,
all the money comes to incomes to me-
That sticks, doesn't it? You can let
them marry now-and you will lose Sid
cote; you can let them marry after you
have got Sidcote; and you will have to
pay up: If you keep on refusing your con-
sent, you can keep the money as long as
you like-unless they marry without.
l. men you VIC Epl " give IL TO NE. lou We
had a taste of me already"
He waited a little. His uncle said
nothing, but watched him from under
his long, white eyebrows-not contempt
uously, as on the first interview after his
return, but with the respect due to the
strength of the situation.
Very well, then; you would rather
give that money to Mary than to me.
But you would like to get Sidcote; you
hate the thought Of giving 1t to me. you
intended to keep it yourself Yet there
is no way out of 1t if you want Sidcote
Perhaps you think you would give it tc
Mary, after you have got Sidcote But
suppose she marries before? Then Won
would be obliged to give it all to me-"
go on, David; perhaps you are Coins
to propose something"
Il have been thinking things over. nm
Gle. You are getting old, you may die
any day; then Mary would be free, i
Is true that she might marry tomorrow
In which case l should be entitled TO CIV
erything. But l don't think she womb
be such a fool. If were Mary, | shonl,
wait. You are seventy now, and you'v,
lost the use of your legs. You can't las
very long. l should wait, If | w4r
Mary. es; II might be a year or two
II couldn't be longer"
His uncle heard without any emotio,
this argument in favor of his approac oh
ing demise-country people use plainnes
of speech about such matters-but h
felt himself very far from dying. "a mas
terful men always do up to the very enc
We'll, David supposing that what vo
say is common sense, what next? I
Mary marries at once she is fool. an
then / have you to reckon with. Their
is good bit outstanding on the old n,
count, and don't suppose there woul
be much coming to you when compoun
interest and all comes TO be reckone
up"
As fer your outstanding accounts. u
shall see when the time come, And :
for compound interest, it WI. be f.
you 10 pay that on my aunt's six thol
sand pounds"
The interest went for the keen
Mary"
Il haven't heard that there's VIZ,
about that In the will You've had h
services as housekeeper for five Voc,