What would be easier than to show the legatee the income his aunt had been deriving, and effect a bogus sale of a part of the property for about five thousand pounds? That he could transmit to America, and end the matter.

He wrote Depew, and when the cablegram came in reply, instructing him to sell the property at once, Loide rubbed his hands together and chuckled with glee. It was just what he had wanted.

But the glee was short lived. Another cablegram came, saying that Depew was on his way to England, and would be there in a few days.[Pg 32]

[Pg 32]

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 property which was to be at once sold. Few city lawyers could view the sudden cutting off of twenty pounds a week of their income with equanimity.

Loide viewed it with clenched hands, curses on his lips, and fear in his heart.

Then the fear gave place to another feeling—hatred. Hatred of this man who was crossing the water to rob him of what he had come to look on as his own.

This cursed American would come over and sell, and disappear with the proceeds.

But would he? Should he—Loide—allow him to do so?

The lawyer sat and thought. Then he determined to wait till Depew came and 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 rarely handled mankind otherwise.

But when the American came, the thermometer of the lawyer's hopes dropped down to zero again.

Depew was a powerful, wiry, keen, shrewd, intelligent man of business. He picked the lawyer to[Pg 33] pieces in five minutes, and so took greater precaution in seeing that he was fairly dealt with.

[Pg 33]

The lawyer had quite an unpleasant time.

"Say, lawyer, things appear to have been handled by my aunt with a light hand. Understand that I am driving now, will you, and the coach won't rock, perhaps."

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