“All dead—every one.”
“I know it.”
“Oh, you do! Who’s been keeping you posted?”
“I’ve read the papers.”
“Then you know, perhaps, how the property was left; but you couldn’t have expected anything else, taking all things into consideration,” and the stranger searched the banker’s face with keen, avaricious eyes.
“Oh, you need not be disturbed. I shall never put in any claim. You are welcome to every penny of it, as far as I am concerned,” responded Mr. Temple, with galling contempt.
“Well, now, prosperity seems to have made you surprisingly generous; but your magnanimity is all lost, for everything was made so tight that you couldn’t get a penny if you should try,” snapped the man, but his face had cleared at the other’s assurance, nevertheless. “Pity,” he continued tauntingly, “you couldn’t have been a little more square in the old days about some other matters.”
Mr. Temple turned upon him with a fierce though low-toned imprecation.
“You’d better let sleeping dogs lie,” he continued between his tightly closed teeth, and his eyes glowed with a savage light. His companion appeared to rather enjoy the effect which his words had produced, for he chuckled audibly.