“How could he afford to retain so eminent a lawyer?” asked Allan Roscoe, nervously.
“Titus Newman, the millionaire merchant, backs him.”
“Do you think there is anything in his case?” asked Allan, slowly.
“I can tell better after our interview at two o’clock.”
At five minutes to two Allan Roscoe and Mr. Tape were ushered into the private office of Mr. Parchment.
“Glad to see you, gentlemen,” said the great lawyer, with his usual courtesy.
Two minutes later Hector entered, accompanied by Mr. Newman. Hector nodded coldly to his uncle. He was not of a vindictive nature, but he could not forget that this man, his own near relative, had not only deprived him of his property, but conspired against his life.
“Hector,” said Allan Roscoe, assuming a confidence he did not feel, “I am amazed at your preposterous claim upon the property my brother left to me. This is a poor return for his kindness to one who had no claim upon him.”
“Mr. Parchment will speak for me,” said Hector, briefly.
“My young client,” said the great lawyer, “claims to be the son of the deceased Mr. Roscoe, and, of course, in that capacity, succeeds to his father’s estate.”