"Nor Everton?"
I shook my head. "I didn't want to commit suicide."
Barrett chuckled softly.
"I happen to know this fellow the Geddis woman is running away with," he said. "He has gone through his wife's fortune, in addition to squandering a good little chunk that his father left him. And you've grub-staked 'em both to this! Well, never mind; it's a back number, now, and you have given me your word for it. Don't worry about the money you are going to need for the honeymoon. There is plenty in the bank—in my account, if there isn't any in yours."
I thanked him with tears in my eyes. Was there ever another such generous soul in this world, or in any other? He stopped me in mid career, wishing to know more about the wedding.
"Let the money part of it go hang and tell me more about this hurry business you've planned for to-morrow. It's scandalous and unheard of, but I don't blame you a little bit. Dope my part out for me while you're here—so I'll know where I am to come on and go off."
For a little while longer—as long a while as I could spare from Polly—we talked of the impromptu wedding and arranged for it. Barrett was a brother to me in all that the word implies. He took on all of the "best man's" responsibilities—and more. When I was leaving to walk up the hill he walked to the corner of the side street with me, and at the last moment business intruded.
"I forgot to tell you," he cut in abruptly. "After you left yesterday afternoon a court notice was served upon us. Blackwell's lawyers have taken the Lawrenceburg suit to the Federal court—on the ground of alien ownership—and we've got to show cause all over again why we shouldn't be enjoined for trespass. Benedict seems to be more or less stirred up about it."
"If that is the case, I oughtn't to be going away," I said.
"Yes, you ought; Gifford and I can handle it."