Luck and Pluck 16

Luck and Pluck 16

"Is that all?"

 

"Not quite. When she and Ben saw that I had got it they dropped their

lanterns and ran after me, or rather Ben threw his at my head. It was

an awful whack. Just then I woke up, and found that I had struck my

head against the bedpost."

 

"Well," said John, laughing, "how do you interpret that dream?"

 

"In this way. I think that the will is going to be found some day, and

that I shall be the one to find it."

 

"I certainly hope you will. It would make a great change in my

circumstances."

 

"What'll you give me if I find it, John?"

 

"A gold watch," said John.

 

"Well, that's worth working for."

 

"You seem to be in earnest about it."

 

"There's many a true word spoken in jest. The time may come when I

shall remind you of your promise."

 

"I hope it will. You will find that I keep my promises."

 

"All right. Well, there's the squire looking out the window, so I'll

leave you. Good luck!"

 

John entered the office.

 

"Good-afternoon, John," said Squire Selwyn. "How are things going on at

home?"

 

"We are all well," said John.

 

"I'm glad to hear it. Won't you sit down?"

 

The lawyer was a man of middle height. He had a pleasant face and

manner, but his eye was keen and penetrating, and seemed to be reading

the person upon whom it rested. He was deservedly popular, for it was

always his endeavor to conciliate rather than to foment quarrels, and

he more than once succeeded in dissuading a client from a lawsuit

which would have put a considerable sum of money into his own pocket.

He was a safe legal adviser, and an honest lawyer. He was glad to see

John, for he had always been attracted towards him, not only because of

his friendship for the father, but because of John's truthfulness and

straightforwardness.

 

Seeing that John hesitated, he said, by way of encouragement:--

 

"If there is anything I can do for you, don't hesitate to ask it. Your

father was my friend, and I hope to be regarded by his son in the same

light."

 

"It is because of that that I have called upon you, Squire Selwyn,"

said John. "You know, of course," he added, after a little hesitation,

"how my father left his property?"

 

"I know how he _appears_ to have left it," said the lawyer,

significantly.

 

"I would like to ask you a question, Squire Selwyn," said John; "but of

course you will not answer it unless you think proper."

 

"Very properly put. Ask your question, and I will decide as to its

fitness."

 

"It is this: Do you know whether my father made any later will than the

one which was found?"

 

"I have no hesitation in answering your question. He did."

 

"How long since was it made?"

 

"Only three months before he died."

 

"I suppose that it disposed of the property differently?"

 

"It disposed of it as the law would have done if no will had been made.

Your stepmother was to have her thirds; the rest of the property would

have gone to you. The matter might have been left to the law but for

the existence of the former will, which was in Mrs. Oakley's charge,

and which she said that she had mislaid."

 

"Who would have been my guardian under the last will, Squire Selwyn?"

 

"Your father asked me to assume that office, and I consented

cheerfully, not only from my friendship for him, but because I have a

very good opinion of you," said Squire Selwyn.

 

"Thank you, sir," said John, earnestly.

 

"Let me add, my young friend," said the lawyer, kindly, "that I hope

you will come to me as freely for advice as if I really filled this

office."

 

"I will, sir," said John. "I am so situated that I need a friend to

advise me who is older and wiser than myself."

 

"Apply to me freely at all times," said the lawyer, pleased with John's

modest demeanor.

 

"There is one thing I want to tell you," said John; "I think my

father's last will is still in existence."

 

"What grounds have you for such a belief?" asked Squire Selwyn,

regarding him closely.

 

"I will tell you, sir," said John.

 

He then related the particulars of his last interview with his father,

and the great effort which the sick man made to communicate something

to him.

 

Squire Selwyn listened attentively.

 

"Will you repeat the words which you could distinguish?" he said.

 

"I distinctly heard father say, 'my will,' and I thought I heard him

say also 'drawer.'"

 

"I am glad you told me this," said the lawyer, thoughtfully. "Did he

attempt to say more?"

 

"There was no chance. Mrs. Oakley entered the chamber, and ordered me

out. She said I was disturbing father."

 

"Do you think she heard the words which your father uttered?"

 

"I know she could not, for it was only by placing my ear close to his

mouth that I could distinguish the little I did."

 

"How did your father seem affected by the interruption?"

 

"He seemed disappointed."

 

"Didn't you have any further chance to speak with your father?"

 

"No; Mrs. Oakley would never admit me again."

 

The lawyer sat for a moment plunged in thought. At length he said:--

 

"Have you ever chanced, since your father's death, to see your

stepmother searching the papers he left behind?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Tell me when."

 

John related the circumstances.

 

"Did she give any explanation?"

 

"She said she was looking for a receipt."

 

"Didn't she seem disturbed at your seeing her thus engaged?"

 

"She seemed angry, and accused me of prying into her actions."

 

"What opinion did you form of her object at that time?" asked the

lawyer.

 

"I thought she was looking for the will," said John, frankly.

 

"Are your relations with your stepmother pleasant?" asked Squire Selwyn.

 

"I am sorry to say they are not," said John. "If they had been, I

would not have troubled myself about the will. But I can see that Mrs.

Oakley is determined to persecute me, and make my life unhappy, and

that she is determined not to carry out any of my father's plans about

my education. She has already taken away my horse, and sold it. She

intended to give it to Ben, but he had an unlucky adventure with it one

afternoon."

 

"I heard of that," said the lawyer, smiling. "He got thrown, didn't he?"

 

"Yes, sir. That cured him of wanting to ride, and so the horse was

sold."

 

"It was a present to you from your father, was it not?"

 

"Yes, sir. Ben received at the same time a gold watch, which he still

has."

 

"That seems hardly fair. One question more: Have you any knowledge of

any secret drawer in your father's desk, or in any article which he

used to own?"

 

"No, sir."

 

"I suppose not. If there had been one, he would hardly have disclosed

its whereabouts to a boy. Well, my young friend," said the lawyer,

rising, as if to terminate the interview, "I am glad to have received

this call from you. I regard your information as important. It

strengthens the conviction which I before entertained, that _your

father's last will is in existence somewhere_. Out of regard to your

interests, as well as to carry out his last wishes, I sincerely hope

that it may be found. But I need not tell you that in the present

position of affairs the greatest caution is absolutely necessary. I am

not prepared to advise you at present, but shall take your case under

my most serious consideration."