“It’s a falsehood!”
“If both of us go to court with our story, we may prove that it is not a falsehood.”
“Ha! are you going to combine to ruin my reputation?” cried the real estate dealer, growing pale.
“We are going to try to obtain our rights.”
“You’ll gain nothing. I’ll—I’ll have you locked up on a charge of black-mail!” Alexander Slocum began to pace his office nervously. “See here, Upton how much do you want to go off and leave me alone?” he questioned, suddenly.
“I want what is due my father.”
“You’ll not get it!” he whispered, hoarsely, throwing his mask aside. “Do you think I have plotted and worked all these years for nothing? Not much! All that property is mine, do you hear? Nobody else shall ever own a foot of it. Now, I’ll tell you what I am willing to do. I’ll give you a hundred dollars in cash and we’ll call it square. Mind you, I don’t admit your claim. I only want to avoid trouble.”
Jerry looked at the man and drew a long breath. He could see through Slocum’s words as clearly as he could see through the window. His father’s claim was worth a fortune!
“Come, what do you say?” demanded Slocum as Jerry did not answer him.
“I say this, Mr. Slocum,” rejoined our hero. “I won’t accept your proposition, and before I am done with you I’ll have our rights and you’ll be in state’s prison.”