“I am so confident that this is all right,” said Murray, ignoring the interruption, “that I am going to advance you a little money now. I imagine you need it.”
“Indeed I do!” exclaimed the grateful and now hopeful woman. “The lawyer got most of the rent money.”
“Damn the lawyer!” ejaculated Murray. “If he hears that you’ve got anything he’ll probably put in another claim, but you’re not to pay him a cent. Do you understand that? Send him to me. I’ll settle with him.”
“Yes, sir,” returned Mrs. Moffat meekly. “He helped me—”
“Helped you! He did more to hurt you than any other ten men could have done. He ought to be made to pay damages.”
Then Murray laughed at his own heat and gave Mrs. Moffat a twenty-dollar bill.
“When we get the matter settled,” he said, “you can repay this.”
“Indeed I will!”
Murray noted that there were tears in her eyes, and, disliking a scene of any description, he picked up his hat and hastily withdrew.
The matter, however, was not settled as easily as he expected. He stated frankly what he had done, and the officials at headquarters seemed to think he had taken unnecessary pains to make trouble. It was not that they objected to paying any just claim against the company, but they held that he had put life into a slumbering claim that was at least open to suspicion. Such evidence as she produced might have fallen into the hands of an impostor, and there was a considerable interval during which the connection between the real beneficiary and the present claimant was lost, the only explanation being that they had made frequent changes of residence and had been among strangers. In brief, the company did not consider the claims satisfactorily established and criticized the whole affair as being irregular.