"
"Well, I tell you, ma'am," was the unsatisfactory answer, given just
before the closet door closed; "we'll do the way the poor relation
did when he got word his uncle had willed him one of his suits of
clothes--we'll hope for the best."
Sylvester had a report to make.
"The other party has been here," he said. "He has just gone."
"The other party? Why--you don't mean--HIM?"
"Yes."
"Was he alone? Nobody along to look after him?"
"He was alone, for a wonder. He had heard the news, too. Apparently had
just learned it."
"He had? I want to know! Who told him?"
"He didn't say. He was very much agitated. Wouldn't say anything except
to ask if it was true. I think we can guess who told him."
"Maybe. Well, what did you say?"
"Nothing of importance. I refused to discuss my clients' affairs."
"Right you are! How did he take that?"
"He went up like a sky-rocket. Said he had a right to know, under the
circumstances. I admitted it, but said I could tell him nothing--yet. He
went away frantic, and I called you."
"Um-hm. Well, Mr. Sylvester, suppose you do see him and his boss. See
'em and tell 'em some of the truth. Don't tell too much though; not who
was to blame nor how, but just that it looks pretty bad so fur as the
estate's concerned.
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