“Yes. And my grandfather was an only son; at least he was the only one to grow up; he ran away from home, that is, went away soon after he was twenty on hearing a rumor of gold being found in California; that was while my great-grandfather was away on the voyage from which he never came back; he was lost in a storm with his ship The Wave Queen.”
“The Wave Queen! Ha! We’re getting on.” The lawyer rubbed his palms together upon the old sunburst coin as if he were petting it.
“Your grandfather was a gold-hunter, eh? Did he own the little old Bible you speak of with the names on the fly-leaf? That would come in handy as evidence.”
“Yes; my mother said that was the only thing he took away with him, beside his outfit, when he started for California, that and a little miniature painted on ivory of his father; both had belonged to his mother—my great-gran’mother.” Jessica’s voice faltered a little as she leaned against the Guardian of the Camp Fire, Miss Dewey; lawyers did seem to do no end of bushwhacking, beating about the bush; at the next leveled question, however, she straightened up; her eyes shone.
“Did you ever hear of your great-grandfather’s saving the life of a Boston merchant or petty trader, named Orlando Norton, at sea?”
“No, but I know he saved a whole lot—of—lives,” with a proud quiver in the voice.
“Well! I may come to the point at last and tell you that on one of his voyages he did save the life of Orlando Norton whom he found clinging to a spar in mid-ocean, after the passenger ship on which he was aboard was wrecked. And this Orlando Norton was grateful; he wasn’t a rich man, but he left Captain Josiah Dee a small legacy at the time of his death which occurred while your great-grandfather was away on his last voyage from which he never came back. So the legacy went unclaimed. The Judge of Probate ordered it to be deposited in a Boston savings bank until some claimant turned up. None has ever done so—efforts were made at the time to reach your grandfather, but they failed—so the sum has lain there for nearly seventy-five years, swelling and multiplying at compound interest, doubling itself every twenty-five years or so.”
Dead silence as the legal tones ceased; among the girls not a hair ribbon stirred! As for the Boy Scouts, only the Astronomer’s padded gasps, sounding as if they emanated from a throat lined with cotton-wool, made themselves heard; others were holding their breath.
“Great guns! I’d like to ask how this matter of a legacy came to be hauled forward again after such a long time had elapsed?” Captain Andy suddenly thrust a massive shoulder into the midst of the group.
“Simply because of late years there has been a law obliging all banks to publish, at intervals, a list of their unclaimed deposits in leading newspapers. Probably if Miss Jessica Dee Holley and her parents weren’t living in New England, they never saw that list, but I did, and not having much legal business on hand, I thought I’d manufacture a little by trying to look up heirs for two or three of the oldest legacies still unclaimed.” Thus the lawyer explained his “side-stepping quest.” He was silent for a moment, gathering breath for a dramatic climax; then he stretched out his right arm and put the old sunburst coin, with its dangling chain, back in Jessica’s hand.