A Cousin's Conspiracy Part 41

"Then what have you to say?" demanded Stephen Ray defiantly. "Do you mean to deny that the will was genuine?"

"No."

"Because if you do, you can go to the probate office, and submit the will to any judge of my uncle's handwriting."

"There will be no occasion. I admit that the will was written by him."

"What do you mean, then?" asked Stephen Ray, showing relief.

"I mean this--that it was not his last will and testament."

"Where is a later one? Produce it if you can?" said Stephen Ray triumphantly.

"You say this fearlessly because you found a later will--and destroyed it."

"It is a vile slander!"

"No; I will swear that such a will was made."

"If it was destroyed, he destroyed it himself."

"No, he did not. I am willing to swear that when he died that will was in existence."

"I don't think your swearing will do much good," sneered Stephen Ray.

"Perhaps so, but one thing has not occurred to you."

"What is that?"

"A duplicate of the last will was placed in my hands. That will exists to-day!"

Stephen Ray started violently.

"I don't believe it," he said.

"Seeing is believing."

"Then bring it here, and let me see it. However, there is one material circ.u.mstance that would make it of no value."

"What is it?"

"My cousin Dudley is dead, and so is his son Ernest. There would be no one to profit by the production of the alleged will."

Bolton was quite taken aback by this statement, as Stephen Ray perceived, and he plumed himself on the success of his falsehood.

"When did the boy die?" asked Bolton.

"About five years ago."

"And where?"

"At Savannah," answered Ray glibly.

"What should have taken him down there?"

"I am not positive, but I believe after his father's death a Southern gentleman became interested in him and took him to Georgia, where the poor boy died."

Bolton looked keenly at the face of his companion, and detected an expression of triumph about the eyes which led him to doubt the truth of his story. But he decided not to intimate his disbelief.

"That was sad," he said.

"Yes, and as you will see, even had your story about the will been true, it would have made no difference in the disposal of the property."

"Still the revelation of your complicity in the suppression of the last will would injure your reputation, Mr. Ray."

"I can stand it," answered Ray with a.s.sumed indifference. "You see, my dear fellow, you have brought your wares to the wrong market. Of course you are disappointed."

"Yes, especially as I am dead broke."

"No doubt."

"And it prompts me to take my chances with the will in spite of the death of the rightful heirs."

"What do you propose to do?"

"Lay the matter before a shrewd lawyer of my acquaintance."

Stephen Ray looked uneasy. The lawyer might suggest doubts as to the truth of his story concerning Ernest's decease.

"That would be very foolish," he said.

"Would it? Then perhaps you can suggest a better course."

"You are a man of education and have been a lawyer yourself. Get a place in the office of some attorney and earn an honest living."

"You see how I am dressed. Who would employ me in this garb?"

"There is something in what you say. I feel for you, Bolton. Changed as you are, you were once a friend. I certainly haven't any reason to feel friendly to you, especially as you came here with the intention of extorting money from me. But I can make allowance for you in your unfortunate plight, and am willing to do something for you. Bring me the doc.u.ment you say you possess, and I will give you fifty--no, a hundred dollars."

Bolton eyed his prosperous companion with a cunning smile.

"No, Stephen Ray, I prefer to keep the will," he replied, "though I can do nothing with it. Give me the money unconditionally, and if I get on my feet you will have nothing to fear from me."

CHAPTER XXVI