“His son?”
“Of course, young Sam is the heir, and owns everything, but he kept Curt on, in the same position, and so, Curt—Mr. Keefe went over all the papers. As stenographer and general assistant, I couldn’t very well help knowing the contents of the papers and so I learned the truth, that Mr. Keefe, who is of another branch of the family, is really the principal heir to the estate that is now in Mrs. Wheeler’s possession. I can’t give you all the actual details, but you can, of course, verify my statements.”
“Of course,” mused Stone. “And Mr. Keefe hasn’t announced this himself—because——”
“That’s it,” Genevieve nodded assent to his meaning glance. “Because he wants to marry Maida, and if she’ll marry him, he’ll keep quiet about the heirship. Or, rather, in that case, it won’t matter, as the elder Wheelers can live here if it’s the property of their son-in-law. But, if not, then when Mr. Keefe walks in—the Wheeler family must walk out. And where would they go?”
“I can take care of them,” declared Allen. “Maida is my promised wife; if she consents to marry Keefe, it will be under compulsion. For she knew this secret, and she dared not tell her people because it meant poverty and homelessness for them. You know, Mr. Wheeler is incapable of lucrative work, and Mrs. Wheeler, brought up to affluence and comfort, can’t be expected to live in want. But I can take care of them—that is, I could—if they could only live in Boston. My business is there, and we could all live on my earnings if we could live together.”
The boy—for young Allen seemed scarcely more than a boy—was really thinking aloud as he voiced these plans and suggestions. But he shook his head sadly as he realized that Daniel Wheeler couldn’t go to Boston, and that a marriage between Keefe and Maida was the only way to preserve to them their present home.
“Some situation!” remarked Fibsy. “And the secret is no secret really, for if Miss Wheeler doesn’t marry Mr. Keefe, he’ll tell it at once. And if she does, the whole matter doesn’t matter at all! But I think she will, for what else can she do?”
Jeffrey Allen looked angrily at the boy, but Fibsy’s funny little face showed such a serious interest that it was impossible to chide him.
“I think she won’t!” Allen said, “but I’m not sure just yet how I’m going to prevent it.”
“You won’t have to,” said Stone; “Miss Wheeler will prevent it herself—or I miss my guess!” He looked kindly at the young man, but received only a half smile in return.