“But is there no one to whom you would like to leave your money?”
Jack looked fixedly at the already beloved face of his cousin. Then his own face worked convulsively, and he covered it with his wasted fingers.
“Yes, yes,” he said, in tones of distress; “there is some one. That is—— You are sure the money is really my own?”
He seemed all eagerness now to possess his share of the money.
“To be sure it is,” responded “Cobbler” Horn. “That is quite settled.”
“Well, then, there is a poor girl who would have given her life for mine; but I have behaved to her like a brute. She shall have every penny of it.”
“Cobbler” Horn listened with intense interest, and at once gave expression to a burning apprehension which had instantly pierced his mind.
“Behaved like a brute!” he exclaimed. “Not in the worst way of all, I hope, Jack?”
“No, no, not that!” cried Jack, in horror.
“Thank God! But now, do you know where this poor girl is to be found?”