“Why, Harold! Do you mean to tell me that you know where this man is, and that you have not looked him up? You say he has not received his inheritance? What are you trying to tell me?”
“I know what I’m saying. Neither he nor his heir has received one cent.”
“And yet you know where they are?”
“I didn’t say I knew of their whereabouts. But I will say that I know where to find the heir, a son.”
“You should go to him at once, then, and give him the opportunity to pay off that mortgage on Uncle Josiah’s home.”
“Yes, I can do that. But it isn’t so simple. Right there is where I’ve struck the snag that has nearly driven me insane. How to do it–––”
“How? A lawyer saying a thing like that? Just go to him and explain how it all came about. If he is half a man he will do what is right without any litigation. That is so very simple that I wonder at you.”
“Read that,” he said, drawing from an inside 323 pocket another paper, and handing it to her.
In the upper right-hand corner was an Australian stamp.
At the end of the first line the letters began to dance before her eyes, and to crowd into one another. Elizabeth turned to her brother, wild-eyed.