“Thank you. And if I turn out to be a swindler?”
“Well,” said the doctor, shrugging his shoulders, “I shall lose.”
“No, you shall not, sir,” cried the young man warmly, as he held out his hand. “You know that I am no cheat, Doctor Lawrence.”
“Well, if you are,” said the cheery old doctor, wringing the proffered hand, “you are the cleverest one I ever met. Now, tell Mr Hampton what you mean to do.”
“One moment,” said the lawyer quickly. “Look here. I have been speaking so far as James Harrington’s executor. Not one penny will I consent to advance out of the estate; but if you will allow me, Mr Blank—”
“Mr George Harrington, sir.”
“Mr Blank,” persisted the lawyer.
“George Harrington, sir.”
“When you have proved yourself to be he. You are to me now Mr Blank; and I say that I shall not allow my old friend Lawrence to bear this expense alone. As a lawyer and executor I will not stir a step, but as a friend, who has some slight belief in your story, I shall share with him.”
The young man laughed.