"There will be no necessity for you to do so, if the will is legal."
Mallien sneered. "I suppose you'll try and prove that it isn't."
"Certainly," retorted Hendle, angered by this extreme selfishness. "You may be sure that I shall do all I can to protect my own interests. Would you not do the same were you in my position?"
The other shirked a straightforward reply as a selfish man would. "That is neither here nor there," he snapped, "I want my rights."
"You shall have them, if you have any."
"From what Mrs. Beatson told me----"
"Mrs. Beatson knows no more nor no less than I do," interrupted the Squire patiently. "She is aware that Leigh found--or said that he found--a will made by John Hendle one hundred years ago, leaving the property to Eunice Filbert and her descendants. If such is the case, and you are rightfully entitled to take my place, well"---- Rupert shrugged his square shoulders, and completed his sentence by waving his hand vaguely to the four corners of the room. Mallien scowled and tried to pick holes.
"Oh, you can be certain that I shall claim my rights to the last farthing," he growled savagely, and rather annoyed by Rupert's reasonable attitude.
"Naturally. That is only fair. I am not the man, as you well know, to keep what does not honestly belong to me. But," added Hendle with emphasis, "the will has yet to be found."
"It must be found," declared Mallien violently.