“Pshaw! You have nothing to reproach yourself with in that respect. I can testify to that,” said Carter encouragingly. “You have been excited over this unfortunate affair at the Old Pike Inn, and it has got on your nerves. Howard deserves to be spanked for upsetting his father in this way. Let me give you a little brandy.”
He went to the handsome mahogany cellaret at one side of the room, and brought out a decanter of brandy.
The detective had visited Howard Milmarsh many times, and he knew just where to find anything that might be wanted in this room. He poured out a little of the liquor and gave it to the millionaire.
“Thanks!” gasped Milmarsh. “That will do me good. Now, Carter, will you promise me that in case anything happens to me before Howard comes back, you will see that he is not defrauded in any way?”
“Upon my word, I don’t see the necessity,” laughed the detective. “But, of course, I will do it.”
“That is not all,” went on the millionaire, who seemed to be stronger now than at any time since Carter had been with him. “I have already taken legal measures to give you the authority you might require. The papers are in the hands of Johnson, Robertson & Judkins, all properly drawn up.”
“What papers?”
“Making you the legal guardian of my son until he is in full possession of my estate. After that, he can take care of himself.”
“Rather a queer—or, at least, an unusual—proceeding,” remarked the detective.