“Can you prove it, so that Mr. Briggs will be compelled to give it up to me?”
“Fortunately I can. I have in my trunk a document, in your father’s own handwriting, giving a schedule of his property, in which he expressly says that he makes it over in trust to Richard Briggs, for your use. Indeed, it must now amount to more than seventy-five thousand dollars; for only a small part of the income has been expended for you. Probably a few hundreds of dollars a year are all that have been spent for you.”
“I don’t see how Mr. Briggs could make such false representations,” said Gilbert, thoughtfully.
“‘Money is the root of all evil,’ my young friend. It is an old proverb, and unfortunately a true one.”
“I have noticed one thing,” continued our hero. “When I thanked Mr. Briggs for paying my board, as I supposed, out of his own pocket, he always seemed uncomfortable and embarrassed.”
“That shows he is not wholly without shame.”
“It is about time for me to be going back to the office, Mr. Talbot; but before I go I want to ask your advice on one point. How soon shall I speak to Mr. Briggs on this subject?”
“Whenever you have an opportunity.”
“Of course, I must refer to you as my informant.”
“By all means,” said the sick man, promptly. “It will be a great satisfaction to me if, through my means, you succeed in obtaining your rights.”