“You are too late, I am afraid, Miss Carlton,” he said. “We waited all these years, and refused to give Mr. Edward Tower the money because we believed that his father must have left a will. But when we learned that the old house had burned to the ground, we felt sure that there was no longer any hope of finding one. Yesterday morning we handed over all the bonds and money to Mr. Tower.”
“Oh!” gasped Linda in dismay. What a dreadful thing to happen to Helen, after she had built such high hopes! Was she really penniless after all?
“But when Mr. Tower hears of this, perhaps he will give it all back,” said Mr. Hudson, soothingly.
“No, no—he won’t!” cried Helen, miserably. “You don’t know my uncle, Mr. Hudson, or you couldn’t suggest such a thing! He never gave us anything in our lives!”
The bank officer looked surprised.
“But he was supposed to be taking care of you out of the income from the estate,” he protested. “That was the understanding we had, when we gave him the interest every six months.”
“Well, he wasn’t! We almost starved—my nurse and I! If it hadn’t been for a little garden we had—and now and then selling some of grandfather’s books, I don’t know how we should have lived!— Oh, he was cruel—my uncle, I mean! It was he who set fire to the house!” She was speaking rapidly, in jerks, so that it was difficult to understand her.
“You mean you think he actually burned that house down on purpose, so that this will would be destroyed?” inquired Mr. Hudson.
“Yes. Disguised as an old man! Didn’t you see that in the papers?”
“Yes, I do recall it, now that you mention it. If you really think that is the case, you girls must take out a warrant for his arrest, and try to catch him—before he sails for England.”