Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1909-03-12
CHAPTER XIII.

Mrs. Trcnham'S coffin had been laid,
| with all solemn pomp and dignity. in the
great. family vault under the old church
in the park. where the I'rcnhams had
been buried from time immCInOrial. In
the long dining room, where the late ms
tress of the house had sat each night 10
read the Holy Word to her stepson and
her servants, the mournerS were seating
themselves now in their sable garments
with as noiseless a decorum as was OBJ
servable among the servants, yet perhaps
with the same inclination to let the nat
ural rcproach, or jest, or compliment have
its way.
Have the goodness to tell Mr.. Tren-
ham that we wait for him."
The guests had all seated themselves
in attitudes more or less expectant, and
Mr.. Marshall. of the firm of Marshall &
Sullivan, solicitors of high and wide re-
pute, raised his eyes from the sealed
packet in his hand to give this order to
the grave old butler who fingered at his
bidding.
II will CO." said Dr.. We're, rising quiet
ly. Il know where l left Mr.. Trenham
five minutes ago.
1.-The will! !" exclaimed Rourke, when
his friend overlook him sauntering to-
ward the Den, his black coat discarded
for a loose gray one, while, but for that,
he wore his deep mourning. Il declare
had forgotten all about it. What is
the use of it. except to the legatees? Let
Newley go in he is sure to have been re-
membered.'
"Newley is there. He was among the
first TO 20 in. Trust him. said We're,
with unusual bitterness. But OF course
YOU must come, Trenham. Mr.. Marshall
will not read the will until you do"
.Why? What has my stepmother's
will to do with me? She would not
even care to leave me a ring out of her
paraphernalia, and l know well enough
what | inherit. Go without me, We're.
am sick of all to-day's form and cere-
mony."
mo; every one expects you to come,
Rourke. Now change your coat again.
| Here, Brent has brought it."
What a bore you are, Brent said his
master, carelessly, as he threw the gray
jacket on one of the hall tables. Leave
it there. l shall don it again when the
comedy is over"
Then the two friends went in and took
their seats among the crowd, and Mr..
Marshall adjusted his eyeglasses n
broke the seals of his late clients will.
For seven minutes the lawyer read on
Uninterrupted the one fact of a great in
justice glaring through the technical terms
| and legal complications. 70 himself
Rourka kept repeating a few OF the un-
| necessary and senseless words with which
the deed was interlarded, while the great
truth surged round him like a wild tam
pestuous sea which could not reach him
yet.
Among the other listeners there was a
breathIess suspensive silence; eand tn
eyes of most were cowardly, and fixed up
on the floor: avoiding, above all, Rourke
Trenham's face; avoiding even Newley's,
too. And when Mr.. Marshall raised his
head. though not his eyes, and fussily
wiped his glasses, there was no guest
but rose relieved to quit the room, and
talk or think the matter over quietly.
"Mr Trenham. I hope with all my heart
that no such unpleasant task as this will
ever fall to my share again. .
Rourke had advanced to the table, and
now was half sitting on it; looking down
upon the p~archmenth. 1t signified little
to him that the room was emptying fast.
He had not waited for that.
Tell me how it is, in our own words
in words of straightforward common
sense. My-my head is half bewildered,
I think, by those meaningless phrases you
have been giving us-meaningless. aren't
they?'
Hardly, Mr., Trenham," said the law
yer, making an endeavor to speak jest
ingly the whole thing is far from mean
~ingless, l fear"
"Then you tell me-what is it? That