“I know,” I replied, “but father has often explained that you merely held the deed in trust for me, until I became of age. He turned it over to you as a protection to me in case some accident should happen to him. Many times he has told me that this plan insured my having a home, no matter what happened.”
“I guess you didn’t understand him,” she answered, an evil flash in her eye. “The facts is, this house were put into my name because the Cap’n owed me money.”
“What for?” I asked.
“I’ve kep’ ye in food an’ clothes ever sence ye was a baby. Do ye s’pose that don’t cost money?”
I stared at her bewildered.
“Didn’t father furnish the money?”
“Not a cent. He jest let it run on, as he did my wages. An’ it counts up big, that a-way.”
“Then the house isn’t mine, after all?”
“Not an inch of it. Not a stick ner a stone.”
I tried to think what this would mean to me, and what reason the woman could have for claiming a right to my inheritance.