The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1905-10-18
CHAPTER XXI.

AL
"Quick, David, quick cried the old
man, eagerly. LET us get to work On
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 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 it
over in his mind in the interval.
why not? David. II you were near
~ seventy you would be anxious to get
on: you would not shilly-shally over
single bit of paper. Let MS get on. Da-
vid. Oh. you've got all the power now,
and | am In your hands l won't grum-
bile, 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
"Yon 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 2"
the helpless old man only groaned.
To-day, uncle, l have come to talk
about my aunt's will. viii 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 so. uncle
not sou
Il thought you would never find 1t
out David" Mr.. Leighan confessed. with
somewhat surprising candor. II soon
found that you knew nothing about 1t,
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 it make? You are
no nearer the money
1--WE shall see. My aunt might just
as well have left 1t to me as to YOU
To he sure, never thought she had half
so much. She began with thousand
She must have pinched and saved. She
left 1t to Mary. on the condition of her
marrying with your consent: and, If not
the money was to go to me- And II
was dead, the will said nothing. So you
thought you could stick to the money
Uncle. you're n foxy one. You ought to
ne in the States. and thirty years young
er. There you would find yourself at
home. with plenty of opportunity. Well
1 am wiser now than | was. And see
now. uncle, | don't mean to 60 away
until this question is settled. What are
you going to do?"
why should | tell you?"
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 Sdcote you will
lose Sdcote." He began, in his slow
way. to tick of his points upon his An
gers. That's the first thing. After
you have got Sidcote, you will he still
l0ath to let the money go. 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 We're to marry without your consent,
all the money comes to incomes to me,
That sticks, doesn't il? You eau 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.
Then you've got to give it to me, You've
had a taste Of me already"
He waited little. His uncle ga
nothing, but watched him from under
his long. white eyebrows--npt 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 II to me. you
intended to keep 1t yourself. Yet there
In no way out of II if you want Sdcoie.
Perhaps you think you would give 1t to
Mary, after you have got Sdcote. But
suppose she marries before! Then yon
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. I'M
Gle You are getting old, you may die
any day: then Mary would be free II
Is true that she might marry tomorrow.
In which case I should be entitled to ev-
erything. But | don't think she would
he such fool. ii 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. IL were
Mary. Yes; it might be year, or two:
il couldn't be longer
His uncle heard without any emotion
this argument in favor of his approa CHI
ing demise people use planness
of speech about such matters-but he
felt himself very far from diving. as mas
terful men always do up to the very end
"Well. David, supposing that what you
say is common sense, what next? II
Mary marries at once she is fool and
then | have you to reckon with. There
Is a good bit outstanding on the old ac-
count, and | don't suppose there would
be much coming to you when compound
interest and all comes 10 be reckoned
up"
LAS for your outstanding accounts. we
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