“At any rate, you won’t be away from Vernon. I don’t think I could bear to part from you just now.”
“Did you call and see Squire Turner, Harry?” asked Katy.
“Oh, yes; I almost forgot to tell you. He has taken the paper, and is going to write to a lawyer in Milwaukie about it.”
“Does he think it is worth anything?”
“He doesn’t give much hope, it’s so many years ago; so we won’t count upon it. I asked him about letting me have a hundred dollars to start in business with, and he said he would let me know to-morrow. I didn’t know then that I could get a place with Mr. Porter.”
“I would rather have you with Mr. Porter.”
“Yes, I would rather stay there for the present. But you must remember that it won’t last but a few weeks. After that I may have to do as I proposed.”
Harry went out, and labored manfully at the wood-pile for a couple of hours. Then he got the basket and carried in considerable and piled it up in the kitchen, so that his mother might not have the trouble of going out to get it.
Meanwhile Squire Turner was writing a letter to a Mr. Robinson, a Milwaukie lawyer, whom he knew. He stated the matter fully, giving his correspondent, however, the idea that the warrant had come into his own possession. In fact, he had made up his mind, in case the paper should be worth anything, to turn it to his own benefit, by hook or by crook. He was a rich man already, to be sure; but he was not contented with what he had, nor was he likely to be. He was, as I have already stated, a grasping, avaricious man, and as long as money went into his pocket he cared very little that it was at the expense of the widow and orphan. He did not build any very high hopes on the warrant. Still he was not a man to let a chance slip by.
In the course of a fortnight he received an answer to his letter. As it is of some importance, I will transcribe it here: