“Dillworth,” said my father, “what do you mean by turning this child out of the house?”
The man looked steadily at the two persons before him.
“Pendleton,” he said, and he spoke precisely, “I do not recognize the right of you, or any other man, to call my acts into account; however”—and he made a curious gesture with his extended hands “not at your command, but at my pleasure, I will tell you.
“This young woman had some estate from her mother at that lady's death. As her guardian I invested it by permission of the court's decree.” He paused. “When the Maxwell lands were sold before the courthouse I bid them in for my ward. The judge confirmed this use of the guardian funds. It was done upon advice of counsel and within the letter of the law. Now it appears that Maxwell had only a life interest in these lands; Maxwell is dead, and one who has purchased the interest of his heirs sues in the courts for this estate.
“This new claimant will recover; since one who buys at a judicial sale, I find, buys under the doctrine of caveat emptor—that is to say, at his peril. He takes his chance upon the title. The court does not insure it. If it is defective he loses both the money and the lands. And so,” he added, “my ward will have no income to support her, and I decline to assume that burden.”
My father looked the hunchback in the face. “Who is the man bringing this suit at law?”
“A Mr. Henderson, I believe,” replied Dillworth, “from Maryland.”
“Do you know him?” said my father.
“I never heard of him,” replied the hunchback.
The girl, huddled in the chair, interrupted. “I have seen letters,” she said, “come in here with this man's return address at Baltimore written on the envelope.”