“If that fellow ever should recover his mind and memory——”
The young man said this musingly, as he poured himself out another glass of champagne.
“If he did, all the fat would be in the fire again,” finished Andrew Lampton, also taking some more champagne.
“Well, now, the point is what are we going to do about the Paradise City affair?” said Louden Powers. “There is a row brewing, and the people who have put their money into it want to know when they will get their plots. Can’t you get those lawyers in New York to settle matters for you, Howard?”
“How am I to do that? They have let me take possession, but they are slow to believe things—like all lawyers. They pretend to have some doubts still whether I am the right man.”
“What do they want?”
“They insist that until Carter concedes in writing that the estate is in the hands of the real Howard Milmarsh, they can allow me to remain here only on sufferance.”
“Well, then, the people can’t have their Paradise City plots. That’s all there is to it. When you get a good hold on the bank account, as well as just this property, we shall be able to pay those who make a fuss, and we shan’t care what the others do.”
Louden Powers said this in harsh, grating tones, as he grinned over his wineglass at the other two.
“How much money is there in the Paradise City treasury?” asked Andrew Lampton.