One thing seemed sure, the Dunns were not openly hostile. And Caroline was. Since the interview in the library, when the girl had, as she considered it, humiliated herself by asking her guardian for money to help the Moriartys, she had scarcely spoken to him. Stephen, taking his cue from his sister, was morose and silent, also. Captain Elisha found it hard to forgive his dead brother for bringing all this trouble upon him.
His lawyers, so Sylvester informed him, were setting about getting Rodgers Warren’s tangible assets together. The task was likely to be a long one. The late broker’s affairs were in a muddled state, the books were anything but clear, some of the investments were foreign, and, at the very earliest, months must elapse before the executor and trustee could know, for certain, just how large a property he was in charge of.
He found some solace and forgetfulness of the unpleasant life he was leading in helping the stricken Moriarty family. Annie, the maid at the apartment, he swore to secrecy. She must not tell Miss Caroline of his visits to her parents’ home. Doctor Henry, also, though he could not understand why, promised silence. Caroline herself had engaged his services in the case, and he was faithful. But the patient was more seriously hurt than at first appeared, and consultations with a specialist were necessary.
“Goin’ to be a pretty expensive job, ain’t it, Doctor?” asked the captain of the physician.
“Rather, I’m afraid.”
“All right. If expense is necessary, don’t be afraid of it. You do just what you’d ought to, and send the bill to me.”
“But Miss Warren insisted upon my sending it to her. She said it was a private matter, and one with which you, as her guardian, had nothing to do.”
“I know. Caroline intends to use her own allowance, I s’pose. Well, let her think she will, if ’twill please her. But when it comes to the settlement, call on me. Give her any reason you want to; say a—er—wealthy friend of the family come to life all at once and couldn’t sleep nights unless he paid the costs.”
“But there isn’t any such friend, is there, Captain Warren? Other than yourself, I mean?”
Captain Elisha grinned in appreciation of a private joke. “There is somebody else,” he admitted, “who’ll pay a share, anyhow. I don’t know’s he’s what you call a bosom friend, and, as for his sleepin’ nights—well, I never heard he couldn’t do that, after he went to bed. But, anyhow, you saw wood, or bones, or whatever you have to do, and leave the rest to me. And don’t tell Caroline or anybody else a word.”