“Not so very old. I don’t believe he is over sixty.”
Really Mr. Linden was but fifty-four, but, being a confirmed invalid, he looked older.
“Should you say that he was likely to live very long?”
“No,” answered Dodger. “He looks as if you could knock him over with a feather. Besides, I’ve heard Florence say that she was afraid her uncle could not live long.”
“Probably Curtis Waring is counting upon this. If he can keep Florence and her uncle apart for a few months, Mr. Linden will die, and he will inherit the whole estate. What is this will he speaks of in the letter you showed me?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Whatever the provisions are, it is evident that he thinks it important to get it into his possession. If favorable to him, he will keep it carefully. If unfavorable, I think a man like him would not hesitate to suppress it.”
“No doubt you are right, sir. I don’t know much about wills,” said Dodger.
“No; I suppose not. You never made any, I suppose,” remarked the reporter, with a smile.
“I never had nothing to leave,” said Dodger.