CHAPTER IV
THE CITY LAWYER AND THE CLIENT FROM THE WILD AND WOOLLY WEST
Aunt Depew had lived on the rentals of the property she had left to hernephew. Loide had been her solicitor for nearly twenty years.
She had a blind confidence in him--that way fraud lies. Absolute trustin a man oft tempts him to break it.
Regularly every quarter he had paid over to her the rentals of theproperties; that was all she had cared for. She had never troubledabout, or even visited, the places in which the buildings were situated.
She had no idea that by reason of the building of a railway station, andother developing influences, the revenue of her property had gone up byleaps and bounds, and that ultimately, while she was receiving twohundred and fifty pounds a year from property which she thought worthabout five thousand pounds, the lawyer was receiving four times thatsum, and the real value was about twenty thousand pounds.
Could any more sad blow have been aimed at the lawyer than the blackedged intimation which reached him one morning--tidings of the death ofhis best client?
The dead woman had had a companion living with her, and this companionhad witnessed the will, and herself after the funeral handed it toLoide.
Otherwise there is a question when the tidings would have reached thelegatee in America--if they ever got so far.
Yet that eternal hope we hear of in the human breast, sprang up in thelawyer's, when he reflected that America was a long way off, that he,Loide, was the executor, and would have the proving of the will.
What would be easier than to show the legatee the income his aunt hadbeen deriving, and effect a bogus sale of a part of the property forabout five thousand pounds? That he could transmit to America, and endthe matter.
He wrote Depew, and when the cablegram came in reply, instructing him tosell the property at once, Loide rubbed his hands together and chuckledwith glee. It was just what he had wanted.
But the glee was short lived. Another cablegram came, saying that Depewwas on his way to England, and would be there in a few days.
Then all hope left Loide's heart. Black ruin stared him in the face.
He had been drawing nearly a thousand pounds a year from the propertywhich was to be at once sold. Few city lawyers could view the suddencutting off of twenty pounds a week of their income with equanimity.
Loide viewed it with clenched hands, curses on his lips, and fear in hisheart.
Then the fear gave place to another feeling--hatred. Hatred of this manwho was crossing the water to rob him of what he had come to look on ashis own.
This cursed American would come over and sell, and disappear with theproceeds.
But would he? Should he--Loide--allow him to do so?
The lawyer sat and thought. Then he determined to wait till Depew cameand see what he could make out of him, see what manner of man he was.
It might be possible to handle him--profitably. The lawyer rarelyhandled mankind otherwise.
But when the American came, the thermometer of the lawyer's hopesdropped down to zero again.
Depew was a powerful, wiry, keen, shrewd, intelligent man of business.He picked the lawyer to pieces in five minutes, and so took greaterprecaution in seeing that he was fairly dealt with.
The lawyer had quite an unpleasant time.
"Say, lawyer, things appear to have been handled by my aunt with a lighthand. Understand that I am driving now, will you, and the coach won'trock, perhaps."
"How dare----"
"Don't bluster, old son. I come from a land where we make holes inblusterers--round holes, with bullets at the bottom of 'em."
"Do you dare threaten me?"
"What, with a shooting iron? Nary a threat. Ain't even brought one alongwith me. Away back in the woods where I live I wouldn't open the doorwithout one in reach of my hand. I was warned not to carry arms in thiscountry--that the British didn't take kindly to 'em."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you? What are you looking so skeered about, then? What's yourface gone all the color of paste for?"
"Let me tell you----"
"No, don't, old son--you let me tell you. We'll get there all thequicker. I don't say you have robbed my aunt----"
"Robbed!"
"That's the creckt word. I don't say you robbed my aunt, but I'll taketarnation good care that you don't rob me. See? Now you just set aboutwinding up this here estate quick as greased lightning, and mind that itrealizes the best price. See?"
The man's shrewd eyes were fixed on his listener all the while he wasspeaking. Loide felt that the man saw through him, and the lawyer'sshoes held a shaking man.
It was apparent that Depew was not an individual to be playedwith--successfully.
Within a very short time the property was sold; and, after deduction ofthe expenses, there was a sum of nineteen thousand pounds to handover--the handing over nearly broke what was left of the lawyer's heart.
And it was a less fragile one than most men's, too.
"Now, old man," said Depew, as he buckled the notes in a belt he wore,"we'll have lunch together, you and I. The matter's been settledpromptly, and I owe you some thanks."
They went into the Great Eastern Hotel, and had as elaborate a lunch ascould be served.
The champagne raised the spirits of both. The American's were lightenough. Loide's needed raising.
And while they sat there, a scheme shaped itself in Loide's brain--itwas an active, busy, plotting brain--and it found good ground to matureon.
He determined that the nineteen thousand pounds should be his at anycost. He said that again to himself--at any cost. His was adetermination not easily shaken.
"What are you thinking of, lawyer?"
Loide started as he answered:
"Really of nothing. I was enjoying my wine."
"Where'll I book my passage--is there a bureau near here?"
"Yes, in Eldon Street there is a passenger agent--close here. I'll walkwith you."
"Will you? I'll take it kindly. The streets are thicker here than in NewYork, and are a bit confusing to a stranger."
Depew paid the bill, and, lighting cigars, the two men walked alongLiverpool Street into Eldon Street.
"You are still staying at Armfield's?"
"All the time--it's a good show. I sleep there to-night, and to-morrowon the Atlantic."
They entered the passenger agent's office, and that worthy had atwo-berthed cabin vacant.
Depew booked one berth. The agent confirmed it on the telephone at theshipping office, the passage money was paid, and the men left.
"Well," said the lawyer, "I must get back; which way are you going?"
"Through the Circus here. First I'm going to have an aching tooth out,and then on to the hotel. I've sent my luggage on, but I've got a smallbag there still."
"Then you go that way?... Good-bye, good-bye, and a pleasant voyagehome."
They shook hands heartily, and separated, going in opposite directions.
The moment Depew was out of sight, the lawyer returned to the passengeragent's office.
"My friend has altered his mind," he said. "He will book the otherberth, and so have the whole cabin to himself."
"Right you are, sir."
The same process was gone through as before, and presently the lawyerleft the office, with a ticket for the other berth in the cabin Depewwas to journey in.
Did he intend to travel to America? Not quite as far.
The only place the boat stopped at after leaving Liverpool, so thepassenger agent told them, was Queenstown. Stopped two or three hoursthere, sometimes, waiting for the tender to bring off the mails.
The lawyer determined to leave the ship at Queenstown, and he hoped tobring off his coup there--to bring off the steamer those nineteen crispBank of England notes which helped to girdle Mr. Depew's waist.