And then Ham did amaze me—and startle me, too.
“Old Mr. Hounsditch died a month ago, Clint,” he said. “It was sudden. He was an old man, you know, and there is nobody to take his place.”
“My guardian is dead, then!” I exclaimed.
“He was co-trustee with your mother, Clint. That’s where the trouble lies. Chester Downes is riggin’ to get appointed in his place. It comes up before the Judge of Probate this morning. You ain’t but jest in time.”
That woke me up, now I tell you! All my wits were working in a minute. Ham needed to make little more talk about it for me to fully understand what was threatening.
“And mother didn’t object?” I asked.
“You know what a holt Downes has over her,” Ham said gravely. “She did want him to wait until you came home. We got your letter from Valpariso and we knew the Gullwing was about due in Baltimore. But Chester Downes—you know him!”
“Let us take my little friend and Dao Singh to the hotel,” I said. “They can wait for us there. I must have a lawyer, Ham.”
“I got you one,” said the old man, quickly. “We’d have gone before the court if you hadn’t come in time and tried to get a stay.”
“Who is he?”