Marjorie heard the door close behind the old lady. She looked up with a brave, but rueful face at the portrait on the wall. “I’m sorry, but I don’t wish to be the one; not even a tiny bit,” she said childishly aloud.
“I had to come back, dear child,” Miss Susanna had softly opened the door in time to hear Marjorie’s sober comment. “Forgive this old crosspatch. Here is the letter he wrote Lawyer Norris that has shown me strongly how much his heart was in the idea of the Honor Fund, and the One. Read it.”
Silence settled down in the sun-bright study as youth and age sat reading the words of one long passed. Finally Marjorie laid down the bulky letter she had just finished. “You win,” she nodded to the portrait.
CHAPTER XXIII
LEILA FINDS ROMANCE
“You’ve done wonders, Peter. The secret drawer furnished us with the facts, but it took you to hunt down Norris’s son, and trace the check after it fell into the son’s hands. That rascal should be brought to book for appropriating that check and building up a fortune from it. You say he is now worth half a million.” Miss Susanna pursed her lips, shaking her head, “He’s a rascal,” she repeated, “Half a million, Hm-m.”
“He’s rated at that.” There was an odd light in Peter Cairns’ black eyes, and an enigmatic smile played about his lips. “I have a few surprises up my sleeve,” he told the same interested little company that had sat with him in the library on his latest visit at the Arms.
“If you’ve one for me, ready,” Hal had assumed a listening attitude.
“This same Norris who appropriated the fifty thousand dollar check owns those properties you wish to buy. I have arranged to take them over for you at your own figure.”
“Tell me nothing.” Hal borrowed one of Leila’s pet surprise phrases.