"Then they can't take our home away from us?" cried Amy joyfully."
"Hold on!" advised Daddy. "I do not say that. I don't wish to encourage you with any false hopes—nor to discourage you, either. I know nothing—absolutely nothing—regarding the legal status of this case. I have my suspicions that Abel Strout is behind it."
"Oh, I am sure of that!" cried Mrs. Carringford.
"Nevertheless, it may be that there is an unsatisfied claimant of the old Peter Warburton Blayne property. This Mrs. Alice G. Blayne may be perfectly honest in her contention."
"But in that case won't Mr. Strout or Mr. Jamison give me my money back?" asked Mrs. Carringford.
"If there was much chance of that, do you think Strout would have stirred up any such suit as this?" asked Mr. Day quietly. "No. Strout at least thinks he sees his way to making you lose the house. Jamison was his dummy—used by him in order to keep, himself out of trouble."
"Oh, Mr. Day! Don't say that"
"I say he thinks he has a chance. But he may be mistaken. Strout is sly. This may be merely 'strike suit' started in the hope of scaring you into making a disastrous settlement with him. He wants to get the property back. The foundations for that factory are already being laid. Property values Mullen Lane are going up."
"Oh, dear me!" sighed Mrs. Carringford, starting back toward the kitchen, "this is a wicked world."
"Nothing the matter with the world," said Mr. Day, cheerfully.
"It's some of the folks in it."