Checkers was trapped. "I do n't believe," he began desperately, "that you 'll be able to help me. It's a very important case, and—well, I—I want some one with a lot of experience."
"As you like," said Mr. Jameson, who, by the way, was none other than my old friend Murray, "but I 've been practicing law for more than five years."
"Well, that's enough practice to learn any game;" and, seating himself, Checkers told him the facts as succinctly as possible from the beginning.
Of his uncle's circumstances he really knew nothing; but he remembered hearing his mother speak of him, just before her death, as being "well off," and "Uncle Giles was n't the kind, once he had a dollar, ever to let it get away."
If Checkers' chronology was correct, it was clear that he was the only heir, and "whether his Uncle left much or little, it was that much better than nothing at all." But Murray somewhat damped his enthusiasm by the statement that there might be bills and claims of various sorts against the estate, which, in the end, would show it to be insolvent. However, he agreed to take the matter up at once, and be content to receive his fee when the final settlement was made.
Checkers spent the rest of the day in writing the long-delayed letter to Pert, telegraphing her in the mean time that he had received her letter, and expressing his thanks.
A few days brought to light these facts concerning Giles Edward Campbell, deceased: He had drawn a large pension undeservedly for years, and by pinching and saving had amassed a fortune. Under Cleveland in '84 his pension was annulled, and about the same time he was nearly bankrupted in a greedy and foolish speculation. Then fear of absolute want must have seized him, for, converting the little that was left into gold, he hoarded it in miserly fashion; loaning it at usurious rates, and hiding it when not in use in chests and crannies in his den. At the time of his death, which was due more to lack of nourishment than to anything else, there was found upon his person and in nooks and corners of his room, thirty thousand dollars in gold and government bonds, all of which in due time became the property of Checkers.
VIII
On a certain bright December day not many weeks after the occurrence of the last related events, the town of Clarksville seemed to have assumed a most unwonted bustle and confusion. People were actually hurrying in and out of the little white Methodist church, carrying evergreen boughs, chrysanthemums and sprays of holly and mistletoe. Wagons were driving back and forth between town and the Barlow place, and the Barlow house was in the hands of a Little Rock caterer and his assistants. It was Checkers' wedding day. He and Pert were to be married that night at six o'clock. Nothing they could think of had been left undone to make the occasion a happy one.