“It will completely establish his claim to it!” exclaimed Chewkle, striking the table with his fist, adding, “That’s information worth having, I should think.”
“Clearly,” said Nathan Gomer, coolly. “Mr Wilton has had in his day many such offers, but they turned out moonshine, all of them. How is he to know that your information is any better than that which has already proved worthless?”
“’Cos I’ll explain why, in a very few words,” answered Chewkle.
“Do so,” said Nathan.
“You know, sir, p’raps better than I do, that the marriage of Mr. Wilton’s father and mother is a pint in dispute.”
“I do.”
“That their register of marriage was cut out o’ the parish book, and the cetiffykit has never been found; but it was supposed to be in the possession of a cousin, who has a claim to some part of the property.”
“Very true—very correct,” responded Gomer, still cool, but nevertheless edging his chair a little closer to Chewkle.
“Now this man disappeared many years ago.”
“He did, good Chewkle.”