“Yes, exactly, my dear sir; but listen to simple, matter-of-fact reason. You see, of course, how the executors are placed.”
“Oh, yes, I see,” said the young man, who was watching Gertrude all the time.
“Prove your position then, my dear sir, and rely upon it you shall have justice.”
“Am I to understand by these words that the executors will offer no opposition?”
“I am sorry to say, sir, that the executors are powerless. They have, as they believed, done their duty conscientiously and well. Your actions for the moment, it seems to me, will be two. One for ejectment against Mr George Harrington.”
“Against the impostor, sir.”
The lawyer made a deprecatory motion.
“The other against the unfortunate executors. Perhaps I am wrong, but all this is so sudden that I must confess to being a little off my regular balance.”
“Look here, sir,” cried the young man bluffly. “I have passed my life among tough, lawless men; but there are plenty out West who are true, rough nature’s gentlemen. My father was one of these, and I’ve tried to follow out his teachings. I suppose I shall have to do what you say—go to law; but if it is made plain to me that you and your fellow executor have done your duty as gentlemen, and have unwittingly been imposed upon, why I’d sooner give up everything than come down upon you.”
“Thank you, sir, thank you,” said the old man in a low tone; “thank you for myself and for Doctor Lawrence.”