"A very well-told tale, Mr. Terry," he said at last. "A very well-told tale indeed! Of course you have retained all the articles you say were found on the child?"
"Yes, we've kept 'em all, you may be sure," replied Uncle Terry.
"And why did you never make any official report of this wreck and of the facts you state?" asked Frye.
"I did at the time," answered Uncle Terry, "but nothin' cum on't. I guess my report is thar in Washington now, if it ain't lost."
"And do I understand you wish to retain me as your counsel in this matter, and lay claim to this estate, Mr. Terry?" continued Frye.
"Wal, I've told ye the facts," replied Uncle Terry, "an' if the gal's got money comin' I'd like to see her git it. What's goin' to be the cost o' doin' the business?"
"The matter of expense is hard to state in such a case as this," answered Frye cautiously. "The estate is a large one; there may be, and no doubt will be, other claimants; litigation may follow, and so the cost is an uncertain one. I shall be glad to act for you in this matter, and will do so if you retain me."
It is said that those who hesitate are lost, and at this critical moment Uncle Terry hesitated.
He did not like the looks of Frye. He suspected him to be what he was—a shrewd, smooth, plausible villain. Had he obeyed his first impulse he would have picked up his hat and left Frye to wash his hands with invisible soap, and laid his case before some other lawyer, but he hesitated. Frye, he knew, had the matter in his hands and might make the claim that his story was false and fight it with all the legal weapons Uncle Terry so much dreaded. In the end he decided to put the matter in Frye's hands and hope for the best.
"I shall want you to send me a detailed story of this wreck, sworn to by yourself and wife," said Frye, "also all the articles found on this child; and I will lay your affidavits before the attorneys for this estate, and report progress to you later on."