With these words, the father drew from a pocket within his hunting-shirt a large leather wallet, and extended it toward his son.
Silently Ross took the pocketbook and thrust it into his bosom.
“You’ll carry out my wishes,” the older man remarked quietly.
“If you don’t live to carry them out yourself, father,” Ross replied with feeling, “I will see that Miss Brownlee gains possession of her own——”
“Please say that you’ll marry Violet, my son,” the father said pleadingly.
For a few minutes the younger man was silent—wrapped in deep thought. Then he answered slowly and solemnly:
“If I find everything as you have stated—and she’ll consent to become my wife—I’ll marry her.”
“Thank you—thank you!” John Douglas murmured huskily.
Then after a momentary pause: