CHAPTER XXIV.—THE GOLDEN MAUSOLEUM.
GRIM was a happy man. He would conceal his joy for one short year, and then—and then—. He had at last reached the top-most craig of all his worldly hopes. Wealth was his, and now he had secured the promise of Bertha Allen to be his wife. He called at his lawyer’s office the next day and told him he wished to add a codicil to his will. He spoke in his usual loud and confident way, and seemed to constantly remember that he was not only the richest man in Gold Bluff, but, by big odds, the most fortunate.
The lawyer knew his client. He knew his whims and wisely humored his eccentricities. It needed but little encouragement and flattery to set Rufus Grim going, recounting the steps he had carved out for himself on life’s journey, and the pinnacle to which he had climbed.
Arthur Boast came in and took a seat in the outer room, Grim requested the lawyer to close the door, and asked him what he let that young scoundrel come about the premises for. Then he seemed to remember that he was the victor, and why should he still hold malice? After a little, he again referred to the matter of changing his will, and when the lawyer was ready, he dictated a codicil bequeathing all his possessions unconditionally to Bertha Allen, to which he attached his signature. The lawyer showed no signs of astonishment at Rufus Grim’s action, though he guessed the relationship that existed between his client and Bertha Allen.
That evening a clandestine meeting between Bertha and her cousin, Arthur Boast, had been arranged.