"Oh, no, you won't, Mr. Taylor," says Colcord, the lawyer. "This property belongs to Foster now. He's paid your mortgage in full. You have no rights here whatever and I advise you to go before you are arrested for trespassin'."
Well, the old man went, but he was still talkin' and threatenin' when he turned the corner. Colcord laughed and shook hands with Philander.
"Don't mind him, Foster," he says. "He's sore, that's all, but he has no claim whatever. You've paid off your mortgage and the property is yours absolutely. As for the other matter, the papers will be ready for signature this afternoon. Ha, ha! I imagine they won't add to our friend's joy."
"Cal'late not," says Philander, grinnin'. "This'll be his day for surprises, hey?"
They shook hands again and Colcord left. Soon's he'd gone, Jim Henry grabbed me by the arm. He didn't even wait for the lawyer to get out of sight.
"Come on," he says. "This is too good to be true. We must find out about this, Skipper."
So over to the "Parlors" we hurried. Philander looked sort of queer when he saw us comin', but he didn't run away. We commenced to ask questions, both of us together. After we'd asked a dozen or so, he held up his hand.
"Come inside," he says, "and I'll tell you about it. The secret'll be out in a little while, anyhow, and maybe we do owe you fellers a little mite of explanation."
We went in, wonderin'. Philander set up the cigars, ten-centers at that, and then he says: "Yes, I've paid off my mortgage and I cal'late you wonder where the money came from. Five hundred of it I had myself. You knew that."
"Yes," says Jacobs, and I nodded.