“I represent the minor, your honor,” he said, quietly. “If it becomes necessary application will be made for the appointment of both a guardian as well as co-trustee of the estate, on behalf of Clinton Webb.”
“But the boy has run away! He is incorrigible,” cried Lawyer Maxwell.
“Brother Maxwell is misinformed,” said the Colonel, suavely, “If he does not know the truth, his client does. Clinton Webb did not run away from home. He was blown out to sea in a little sloop from Bolderhead. It is a matter of record—newspaper record, your honor. He was picked up by a vessel bound for the South Seas. From that distance he has only lately been able to get a ship homeward bound.”
Chester Downes was whispering again to his lawyer. The eyes of the sleek Mr. Maxwell snapped.
“Your honor!” cried he, interrupting Colonel Playfair.
The colonel politely gave way to him. The Judge looked puzzled.
“Your honor! The fact of his having left home in the first place involuntarily is admitted. But he has refused to return. His mother sent money for his passage to Buenos Ayres. He supposedly wasted the money and remained wilfully out of her jurisdiction.”
“Colonel Playfair?” queried the Judge.
“If Brother Maxwell is quite finished,” said the colonel, “I would like to state our side of the argument.”
“Continue,” said the Judge.