‘Go it, Clem!’ cried her husband, pushing his chair a little back. ‘Go it, my angel! When you’ve eased your mind a little, I’ll explain how it happens.’
She became silent, glaring at him with murderous eyes. But just at that moment Mrs. Peckover put her head in at the door, inquiring ‘What’s up?’
‘Come in, if you want to know,’ cried her daughter. ‘See what you’ve let me in for! Didn’t I tell you as it might be all a mistake? Oh yes, you may look!’
Mrs. Peckover was startled; her small, cunning eyes went rapidly from Clem to Joseph, and she fixed the latter with a gaze of angry suspicion.
‘Got a bit of news for you, mother,’ resumed Joseph, nodding. ‘You and Clem were precious artful, weren’t you now? It’s my turn now. Thought I’d got money—ha, ha!’
‘And so you have,’ replied Mrs. Peckover. ‘We know all about it, so you needn’t try your little game.’
‘Know all about it, do you? Well, see here. My brother Mike died out in Australia, and his son died at the same time—they was drowned. Mike left no will, and his wife was dead before him. What’s the law, eh? Pity you didn’t make sure of that. Why, all his money went to the old man, every cent of it. I’ve no claim on a penny. That’s the law, my pretty dears!’
‘He’s a —— liar!’ roared Clem, who at the best of times would have brought small understanding to a legal question. ‘What did my brother say in his letter?’
‘He was told wrong, that’s all, or else he got the idea out of his own head.’
‘Then why did they advertise for you?’ inquired Mrs. Peckover, keeping perfect command of her temper.