Andy, however, was on the watch, and he sprang forward and rescued the valuable document.
“What are you trying to do, Mr. Starr?” he demanded, sternly.
“Nothing—it slipped,” answered the old man, crestfallen.
Though Mr. Ross was disappointed that he was unable to injure the Gordons by the agency of Mr. Starr, he felt that he could not afford to be implicated in the rascality which his client had attempted in his presence.
“Mrs. Gordon,” he said, rising from his chair, “you will do me the justice to believe that I had no knowledge of the existence of this receipt. I supposed Mr. Starr’s claim was a genuine one, or I would not have meddled with it. It is not my intention to aid and abet rascality.”
“You don’t mean me, do you, squire?” asked Joshua Starr, gazing in consternation at the lawyer.
“Yes, I do!” returned the lawyer, severely.
“There’s a mistake, squire. I’m almost sure that signatoor ain’t genewine.”
“And I am sure that it is,” said the lawyer, curtly. “You needn’t bring me any more of your business, Mr. Starr.”
He strode out of the cottage, with a look of utter disgust on his face.