“Who could have put such a thought into your head?” he asked, slowly and hesitatingly.
“I won’t make a secret of it,” said Gilbert. “I have made the acquaintance of a man who knew my father. He tells me he was his book-keeper up to the time of his death. He claims to know all about my father’s affairs, and the amount of property he left.”
“There is some great mistake,” muttered the merchant.
“I don’t think there can be. Mr. Talbot has, in his possession, and has showed to me, an autograph-letter of my father, in which he gives full details on this subject.”
“Where is this Talbot?” asked Mr. Briggs, abruptly.
“He is living in this city.”
“Where?”
“You must excuse me, Mr. Briggs. At present I do not wish to tell you.”
“He may be an impostor.”
“I have thought of that; but such an imposition could not be carried out. I think he tells the truth.”