"Miss DeWitt," I says, "lissen, please, an' you shell know all: You see, ma'am, ever'thin' in this connection dates back to the time w'en Mr. Dallases' paw made his dyin' will some six or seven yeahs ago. 'Course, as you doubtless has learned befo' now, he lef' the bigges' part of the estate tied up."
"I don't know any such thing," she says, breaking in again and even more savage-like than before. "Do you mean to tell me Dallas is not the sole master of his own property?"
I sort of stammers and hesitates like I'm astonished that she don't know that part of it, neither. My hanging back only makes her yet more fierce to hear the rest.
"Wellum," I goes on to say when finally I sees she's liable to blow clean up if I delays further, "the real facts of the case is 'at he ain't actually got no property a-tall, ez you mout say. He only draws down one-ha'f the intrust frum it. He don't get nigh ez much income, neither, ez whut folkses mout think frum his free way of spendin' his money right an' lef'. Ez a matter of fact, an' in the strictes' confidences, Miss DeWitt," I says, "he is mos' gin'elly alluz in debt to the trustees by reason of him bein' overdrawed. But, course," I says, "'at part of it ain't neither yere nor thar, is it? Ef Mr. Dallas wants to slather his money 'bout so fast that ever' dollar he spends looks to outsiders lak it's ten or twelve, tha's his bus'ness. Lemme git back on the main track. Le's see, now? I wuz specifyin' to you 'bout the will, wuzn' I?
"Well, it's lak this: W'en folkses down our way heared the terms of the will they wuz a heap of 'em said the old gen'elman's mind must a-went back on him in his last sickness fur him to be layin' down any sech curious 'quiremints ez them wuz. Yassum, some even went fu'ther 'en 'at. Some went so fur ez to say it wuz the streak of onsanity w'ich runs in the Pulliam fambly croppin' out ag'in in a fresh place."
"Oh, so it's insanity now!" she says. "The longer you talk the more interesting things I learn. Go on—go on!"
"Yassum," I says, "I'm goin'. Yassum, they wuz quite a host of folkses w'ich come right out an' said Mr. Dallas an' Mr. Clarence, ary one or both of 'em, would be amply justified in contestin' the will on the grounds 'at the late lamentable wuz out of his haid at the time he drawed it up. But no, ma'am, not them two! I figgers they knowed they own dear paw well 'nuff to know the idee w'ich he toted in his mind. 'Sides w'ich, all the members of that fambly is sort of techy on the subjec' of the lil' trickle of onsanity 'at flows in the blood, w'ich, I reckin, they natchelly is to be 'scused fur that. An' ef one or the other of 'em went to the big cotehouse tryin' to bust up the will on the claim 'at the ole gen'elman didn't rightly know whut he wuz doin' to'des the last, it'd only quicken up the talk 'bout the craziness strain. An' so, on 'count of the Pulliam pride an' all, they jes' lef' it stand lak it wuz. An' 'en, on top of 'at, Mr. Clarence he turned sort of onsatisfactory in the haid an' he strayed off an' wuzn' heared of ag'in till yere recently. An' 'en, soon ez Mr. Clarence wuz found, Mr. Dallas he come on up yere an' you an' him met an'——"
"In Heaven's name, quit drooling and get somewhere," she says, making her words pop like one of these here whip-lashes. "What did the will say?"
"Yassum," I says, "yassum, I jest is reached 'at p'int, now. The will say 'at the estate is to be helt in trust fur the time bein' an' 'en w'en the two sons comes of age they is free to marry, only they is both bound to marry somebody or other befo' they reaches they twenty-fif' birthday. An' the one w'ich has the most chillen to his credit at the end of five yeahs frum his weddin' day, he gits the main chunk of the prop'ty, whilst the other is cut down to jest——"
"The most children?" she says; only by now she's saying it so savigrous that she practically is yelling it. "The most——?"