John Marsh's Millions

by Charles Klein; Arthur Hornblow

The first gun in the long and bitterly contested legal battle, which was to follow, was fired directly Leon Ricaby offered the new will to the Surrogate for probate. Mr. Cooley replied promptly by offering the first will. An administrator was then appointed by the Surrogate to conserve the estate during the litigation, and thus the Marsh estate was tied up into a complicated legal knot which only the Surrogate or a decree of a competent court could disentangle.

Then began for Paula a long, drawn-out period of mental distress and physical discomfort, which taxed her patience and powers of endurance to the utmost. On first arriving in New York, she had taken a modest suite of rooms in one of Manhattan's luxurious hostelries, but this she soon found too expensive for her slender purse. Until it was proved that she was legally entitled to the fortune her father had left, she could not touch a cent of it. Meantime, her means were limited. Practically all the available cash she had was a few hundred dollars left from her Paris allowance. Mr. Ricaby offered to advance her any amount, but she gratefully declined his assistance, preferring to husband her resources by the practice of strict economy. The first step was to move into cheaper quarters. After a long search she found comfortable rooms at Mrs. Parkes' genteel boarding house on West Fourteenth Street. The neighborhood was far from fashionable, but Paula did not mind that. Indeed, she thought it an advantage, preferring to be quiet and secluded, hidden away, as it were, from the world until the legal fight was over and she could take her proper place in the world. Besides, she was nearer now to the poorer districts to which her daily duties called her, almost next door to the slums where her youthful enthusiasm, tireless energy, fine humanitarianism were devoted daily to the noble work of rescuing the needy and unfortunate. This Settlement work, far from weighing heavily upon her, she regarded as a blessing. It not only enabled her to do some good in the world, but it kept her mind occupied while the lawyers were squabbling in the courts.

Of Mr. Ricaby she saw very little. He was busy, working constantly in her interests, preparing for the trial. The case, he told her, was already on the calendar and would come up very soon. Victory, for their side, was, of course, a foregone conclusion. The other side had virtually not a leg to stand upon. They must be prepared, however, for any emergency. Bascom Cooley was known to be unscrupulous, a man who would stop at nothing to gain his ends. Through trickery and his political pull he had already scored an important point. The judge before whom the case would come was an intimate friend of his. They played poker together and belonged to the same political organization. Was it not possible that he might be tempted to let his sympathies lean in his crony's favor? Yet even judges dare not betray their trust too openly. If right were on Paula's side, the Court would be forced to render a decision in her favor.

Notwithstanding this legal unpleasantness, Paula thought she ought to call on her uncle, and in this Mr. Ricaby agreed with her. So one afternoon she dressed herself smartly and rode up Broadway to West Seventy-second Street. The reception she received was not such as to encourage her to repeat the visit. Her uncle was out, but Mrs. Marsh greeted her with frigid politeness and asked her to have tea. While the two women were taking mental inventory of each other Mr. Marsh came in, and the situation became more strained.

Jimmy had expected this visit and had prepared himself for it. He had intended to call the girl an impostor to her face, to drive her from the house, but now she had come, he did neither. He saw a tall, pale, aristocratic-looking girl who vaguely, despite the difference of sex, reminded him of his brother. Yes, now he saw her he knew it was the truth, but no matter, he would fight just the same. She was his brother's child, the girl who had come between him and his rightful inheritance. She was the enemy. But he would fight her and he would win. Cooley had promised him that. These thoughts were passing through his mind as he sat in silence, staring gloomily at her. Then he asked questions about her father and the way they lived in Paris. It seemed to her that he was most interested in her answers regarding her mother, and it suddenly occurred to her that he was cross-examining her for the purpose of the trial. Disconcerted she relapsed into monosyllables and the atmosphere grew more chilly. There was no hint of legal difficulties. He merely inquired if she intended to reside permanently in New York, and expressed the hope that she would always consider their house her home. Paula silently bowed her thanks, and the ceremonious call was at an end.

Of Tod Chase she had seen a good deal since the voyage home. He had asked for permission to call and she assented gladly. The young man belonged in a way to the enemy's camp, but she did not mind that. On the ship they had been thrown a good deal in each other's company, and she had taken a fancy to him. He was always in such good humor, always so full of animal spirits that his mere presence relieved the general gloom and cheered her up. He brought her books and magazines and chatted to her by the hour of a world she did not know and did not care to know. He talked freely of the coming trial; denounced the whole thing as an outrage and hotly berated his stepfather and Bascom Cooley as two scoundrels. He got so worked up over the case that Paula had to laugh. Only one person was not convinced of his sincerity and that was Mr. Ricaby. The lawyer was not blind to the fact that the young man was paying Paula a good deal of attention, and he would have been more than human had he not resented it.

Thus in a way Paula was happy. In the day time she had her work among her poor, and the evening she gave up to reading or music. Sometimes Tod would drop in, and, with Mr. Ricaby, they would have an enjoyable evening. On rare occasions Harry and Mrs. Parkes would be invited to join the little circle.

Then came the trial with all its annoyances, all its brutalities. It was a terrible ordeal for the young girl, and there were times when, utterly worn out and discouraged, she felt it was beyond her strength to go on. The opposite side had no mercy on her. Bascom Cooley was not the kind of man to spare anyone, woman or child. There were no lies and calumnies that a devilish ingenuity and brazen impudence could invent that he did not concoct in order to attack the new will. To discredit the new claimant, he grossly insulted her; to belittle the will, he calumniated the dead man. He produced witnesses who swore on the stand that John Marsh, of late years, was an entirely changed man, irresponsible for his actions. They testified that he not only drank himself to death, but that he acted irrationally and was clean out of his mind. Physicians in Cooley's employ gave corroborative evidence, with some modifications. Mr. Cooley, triumphant, argued that his client, Mr. James Marsh, had amply proved his claim. He alone was entitled to the estate under the original will which was executed at a time when the deceased was in possession of all his faculties. If, thundered the lawyer, the second will was not a damnable forgery—and significantly he added, they had not yet had time to go into that phase of it—it was the work of a crazy man. He would go still further——

Now he did a horrible thing. Not content with vilifying the father, he besmirched the character of Paula's mother. Granted, he shouted, that John Marsh was not crazy—even then the girl had no legal claim to the estate, for she was illegitimate. John Marsh never married her mother!

Instantly Mr. Ricaby was on his feet with an indignant protest. Was it not scandal enough, he cried hotly, that members of the bar should prostitute their profession by putting perjured witnesses on the stand without further disgracing themselves by wantonly insulting a defenseless girl? The insinuation of illegitimacy was a cowardly and venomous lie, an outrageous falsehood which could be nailed on the spot, for, luckily, his client, Miss Marsh, had safe in her possession her mother's marriage certificate. As to the other statements made under oath regarding John Marsh's mental condition, they were equally reckless and fabricated solely for the purpose of influencing the court's decision. The witnesses he would call would refute the allegations entirely.