“He was not; he had dug his gold out of California and gone East to find his relatives. Learning that they had come West, he sought them here in the mines, was taken ill and died as I told you. That man was Ned Hale, your oldest brother.”
Judge Hale could not speak for a while, but at last he said fervently:
“Thank God!”
“You had better thank me, for you cannot get it unless I deliver up the papers. I wish your note for the fifty thousand, and to see dear Kenton and Mary married before I turn the papers over to you.”
“If this fortune has been left me, I can get it without your aid.”
“Oh, no, for I have the papers, and the lawyers and the witnesses are all in my pay. Do you agree to the terms, Andrew?”
“I will give you one hundred thousand, if you will not hold Mary in the bargain.”
“She will have vast wealth and a devilish handsome husband.”
“She shall not marry him, and if you and your accursed son ever enter my house again, I will shoot you down as I would a mad dog. Now, begone, sir.”
“Judge Hale, be reasonable. You are mad to throw away this fortune,” urged Mathew Kingsland.