Aberdeen herald. [volume] (Aberdeen, Chehalis County, W.T.) 1886-1917, 1905-10-23
CHAPTER XXI

man, eagerly LET us get to work Oh
YOU waste half the morning; let us get
on. At this rate" he sighed. I'VE shall
take months before | get back the prop
erty."
There will he 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 it
over i'll his mind in the interval.
why not? David. if you were near
ly seventy you would be anxious to get
on; yon would not shillyshally over a
single bit of paper Let us get on. Da-
vid. oh, you've got all the power now,
and am in your hands. l won't grum-
bic, David. No, take your own time,
my boy: take your 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 had all the power so
long as he had any Of those coupons left.
You little thought when | came here
that | was going to give you so much
trouble. did you, Uncle Daniel? You
thought you had the whip hand over me
always, didn't you? But you see. first
the fall from your pony, then the loss of
your papers. then the stroke, then my
coming home and finding those papers
all part of the judgment-and now
there's more to follow"
What more? Oh. David, what more p
the helpless old man only groaned.
To-day. uncle, l have come to talk
about my aunt's will. Will Nethercote
told me. You did not. You thought that
as soon as our little business was finish
ed should go away and never come
back any more. You thought you would
keep the money, did you? Not 80, uncle;
not So"
Il thought you would never find 1t
out, David" Mr.. Leighan confessed. with
somewhat surprising candor. 81 soon
found that you knew nothing about it,
and that you never go about and talk
and | 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 we'll have left it to me as to you.
10 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 IL
was dead, the will said nothing. So you
thought you could stick to the money.
Uncle, you're foxy one. You ought to
be 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 l was. And see
now, uncle, l don't mean to go away
10 laH hot ro
You going to do?"
why should l tell your
: Keep it to yourself, then I 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 Co. and you will
keep Mary waiting on. You think that l
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 az
you like-unless they marry without.
Then you've got to give it to me. You've
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 it to ME, you
intended to keep it yourself Yet there
is no way out of it if you want Sdcote.
Perhaps you think you would give it to
Mary. after you have got Sidcote. But
suppose she marries before? Then you
would be obliged to give it all to me-"
Go on, David; perhaps you are going
to propose something"
II have been thinking things over, un-
Gle. You are getting old you may die
any day: then Mary would be free. |,
Is true that she might marry tomorrow
Ill winch CdSe SHoull Ue entitled 10 eV-
erything. But | don't think she would
be such fool. If | were Mary, | should
wait. You are seventy now, and you've
lost the use of your legs. You can't last
very long. ! should wait, if | were
Mary. Yes; it might be year or two
It couldn't be longer
His uncle heard without any emotion
this argument in favor of his approa CHI
Ing demise--country people use painnes.
of speech about such matters-but h.
felt himself very far from dying. as mas
terful men always do up to the very end
We'll. David. supposing that what 70,
say is common sense. what next? Il
Mary marries at once she is a fool, anc
then have you to reckon with. Their,
Ia good bit outstanding on the old nc
count, and don't suppose there would
be much coming to you when COMPOUND
interest and all comes to be reckonet
up"
AS for your outstanding accounts, w
SHALL see when the time comes. And al
for compound interest, it will be TO
you to pay that on my aunt's six thou
sand pounds"
The interest went for the keep O
Mary"
Il haven't heard that there's a wore
about that in the will. You've had he
services as housekeeper for five years
and you've pocketed the interest. Why
,,l. t.