Nettie Cranning drew herself up. “We’re not going to be narrow minded about this. Eva, Paul and I get everything that’s left, and we’ll divide it up just the way Harlow Milbers wanted it in his will. We’re not going to split hairs over a lot of legal technicalities. We loved Harlow Milbers and we’re going to see that his wishes are carried out to the letter — aren’t we, Eva?”
“Yes, Mother.”
Chapter IX
Bertha Cool, marching into the office, paused for a word with Elsie Brand. “Of all the rotten breaks.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Elsie Brand asked, pushing her chair away from the desk.
“No,” Bertha said. “I don’t want to tell you about it. I don’t want to tell anybody about it. I’m just a sucker, that’s all. I’m mixed up in a case where it’s raining gold, and I’m caught out with a leaky teaspoon. My God, Elsie, everybody’s in the dough except Bertha Cool. How I miss that little runt! If he were only here, he’d find some way of climbing aboard the gravy train, and we’d come out of it with some dough.”
“There’s a card from him in the mail,” Elsie said. “He’s in San Francisco and will be there for three or four days.”
“You mean Donald Lam’s in San Francisco?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to fly up to see him.”