The two looked at each other blankly.
"See here, Levison," said Mason coaxingly: "you know my aunt will settle all these things, and I want money right now. Payne was just going to see you."
"She'll pay some—not this," said the man coolly. "In fact, I am just from Winnett's. He has paid Levi and Walker"—at which Mason stared—"and taken out a writ in summary proceedings. In fact, I come to warn you, and one good turn deserves another: pay it and go."
Mason by chaffering got a small sum on his watch over the debt. He was clear at last. Payne had left, and Mason was taking a final drink at the bar when a man tapped his shoulder. Aunt Fanny had played her trump and won: it was the sheriff.
"All right!" said Levison, laughing. "Whenever you have anything, you know, I am accommodating, but—"
We can now return and read Aunt Fanny's correspondence.
CHAPTER V.
When the lawyer's note, by anticipation, announced the arrest described in the last chapter, Aunt Fanny, like an old spirit of the turf, began to groom for that other match. I declare it was not an unlovely sight to see the two women, youth and its affectation, wrapping arms about each other in joyous mood over this double victory.
The dowager took occasion to praise her nephew's gallantry, the chivalry that prompted him to take up an old woman's quarrel, with hints that the other party, even if his rhymes had been unintentional, betrayed a rudeness that ill became the Vere de Vere. Perhaps this part, as it included little Sue, had as well have been left out, but Aunt Fanny had her points to make, and always played a bold, high game.
As the two sang pæans of victory another note came from the lawyer, which quite altered the complexion of things. That ready gamester, Lind Mason, had played again and completely turned the tables on Aunt Fanny, using her own weapons to wrench victory from her: