“Flying pay's pretty good,” said Bob. “And there was always Tommy to think of, you know, sir. I had to put something away for her, in case I crashed.”
“Dear me,” said Mr. M'Clinton. “Your aunt had great confidence in you as a boy, and it seems she was justified. I'm very glad to hear this, Captain, for it enables me to do with a clear conscience something which I have the power to do. There is a discretionary clause in your aunt's will, which gives me power to realize a certain sum of money, should you need it. I could hand you over about three thousand pounds.”
“Three thousand!” Bob stared at him blankly.
“Aye. And I see no reason why I should not do it—provided I am satisfied as to the use you will make of it. As a matter of form I should like a letter from your commanding officer, testifying to your general character.”
“That's easy enough,” said Bob. “But—three thousand! My hat, what a difference it will make to Tommy and me! Poor old Aunt Margaret—I might have known she'd look after us.”
“She loved you very dearly. And now, Captain, about your sister.”
“She's the big thing,” said Bob. “Can I kidnap her?”
“It's rather difficult to say just how your father might act. Left to himself, I do not believe he would do anything. But urged by your stepmother, he might make trouble. And the good lady is more likely to make trouble if she suspects that there is any money coming to your sister.”
“That's very certain,” Bob remarked. “I wish to goodness I could get her right out of England, sir. How about Canada?”
The lawyer pondered.