"Ah, ha! then he was lending you money, and getting interest on it, which really ought to have been your own—wasn't he?"
"Well, yes, I've felt so sometimes; but there's doubt about it, perhaps."
I had sounded the man deeply enough, and saw his temper towards Floramond; and so, drawing a little nearer him, I said,—
"You have heard of me before, but have never seen me till night before last; but we must be intimate friends for a while. Your sister Margaret has told you of me. I am the detective from New York; and this paper (pulling it from my pocket) is old Mr. Alvord's last will and testament—the last one, and you are here entitled to a fortune."
Mr. Alvord's face turned pale with astonishment.
"Let me put my eyes on it!" said he; and I handed it to him, opened. He ran it over hurriedly, looked at the signature, saying, "There's no mistake about it; and that's father's signature—just as Margaret always said it was. I had feared father had destroyed it, and I had entirely forgotten all about the matter for a good while. I gave up all as lost the day that Floramond produced the old will, and we searched the house, all of us, for this."
It was not long from that morning before we had everything arranged for bringing Mr. Floramond Alvord to terms, and I remained near the scene directing matters. I held on to the will, while the brother wrote from his home to Floramond, that his father's last will had been finally found; that he felt it his duty to inform him of it at once, and that legal steps would be taken directly; but this letter was not sent till on the day before old Boyd was expected back.
That day Mr. Floramond Alvord visited old Boyd's office, very earnest to learn when he would be back, and asked my "brother" to ask Mr. Boyd to call on him at his house as soon as he should arrive. "Tell him I have a very important matter for him to attend to," said he, "and want to see him at once."
Old Boyd arrived, and the clerk gave him the word from Mr. Alvord.
"Some devilish speculation on hand, I 'spose," said old Boyd, gruffly, as he left his office, and proceeded to Alvord's house. But he wasn't gone long, and soon came back to the office, and went silently to rummaging his papers. He looked here and there, as if his memory didn't serve him exactly; finally he came to the drawer with the Wilcox letters in them, and my brother watched his manner intently. The old man took up the letters, laid them out; took up other packages, and laid them out, and then laid them back, and looking at the Wilcox letters, said,—