Dud had insisted upon publishing the facts of the old trouble which had come upon the firm of Grimes & Morrell, in pamphlet form, including Allen Chesterton’s affidavit, and this pamphlet was mailed to the creditors of the old firm and to all of Prince Morrel’s old friends in New York. But nothing was said in the printed matter about Willets Starkweather.
Fenwick Grimes took a long trip out of town, and made no attempt to put in an answer to the case. But Mr. Starkweather was a very much frightened man.
Dud came home one afternoon and advised Helen to go and see her uncle. Since her departure from the Starkweather mansion she had seen neither the girls nor Uncle Starkweather himself.
“He doesn’t know what you are going to do with him. He brought the money he received from your father to my office; but, of course, I would not accept it. You’ve got the whip hand, Helen——”
“But I do not propose to crack the whip, Dud,” declared the Western girl, quickly.
“You’re a good chap, Snuggy!” exclaimed Dud, warmly, and Helen smiled and forgave him for using the intimate nickname.
But Helen went across town the very next day and called upon her uncle. This time she mounted the broad stone steps, instead of descending to the basement door.
Gregson opened the door and, by his manner, showed that even with the servants the girl from Sunset Ranch was upon a different footing in her uncle’s house. Mr. Starkweather was in his den and Helen was ushered into the room without crossing the path of any other member of the family.
“Helen!” he ejaculated, when he saw her, and to tell the truth the girl was shocked by his changed appearance. Mr. Starkweather was quite broken down. The cloud of scandal that seemed to be menacing him had worn his pomposity to a thread, and his dignified “Ahem!” had quite disappeared.
Indeed, to see this once proud and selfish man fairly groveling before the daughter of the man he had helped injure in the old times, was not a pleasant sight. Helen cut the interview as short as she could.