“Then you are content with your legacy?” asked Mr. Spencer.
“Oh, yes; it was more than I expected, or mother, either.”
“Yet it is but a mere drop of your uncle's wealth,” said the lawyer, thoughtfully.
“That may be; but he needn't have left us anything.”
“I see you look upon it in the best way. You are quite a model heir—very different from most of your relatives—Mrs. Pinkerton, for instance.”
“I supposed she expected more than I did.”
“She appeared to expect the bulk of the property. I am afraid her husband will have a hard time of it for a week to come,” said the lawyer, laughing. “He will have to bear the brunt of her disappointment. Well, there seems no more for us to do here. We have found out the value of your legacy, and may lock the trunk again. If you will lend a hand, we will take it across to my house, so that there may be no delay when the stage calls in the morning.”
“All right, sir.”
James Leech was looking out of the front window, awaiting the return of Mr. Spencer and Herbert with not a little curiosity. At length he spied them.
“Tom!” he exclaimed, “your father and that Carter boy are coming back.”