LITMIR.BIZ

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cried Mrs. Ritchie scornfully; “you’re a fool, Toby Clark. You can’t tie up my personal property that way.”

      “The law, madam – ”

      “Drat the law! The property’s mine, and I want it now.”

      Toby looked helplessly at Janet.

      “That’s the way she’s been annoying me all the afternoon,” declared the girl, stifling a sob. “Can’t you get rid of her, Toby? Give her anything she wants; only make her go.”

      “I’ll go when I get my property,” said Mrs. Ritchie, obstinately settling herself in the chair.

      Toby thought about it.

      “I might ask Lawyer Kellogg’s advice,” he said. “He wasn’t Judge Ferguson’s friend, but he knows the law and could tell us what to do.”

      “Kellogg! That fat pig of a pettifogger?” cried the old woman, sniffing disdainfully. “I wouldn’t believe him on oath.”

      “Never mind the law; give her the box, Toby,” implored Janet.

      But Toby had a high respect for the law.

      “Do you know Mr. Holbrook?” he asked.

      “No,” said Janet.

      “Who’s Holbrook?” inquired Mrs. Ritchie. “Never heard of him.”

      “He is a young lawyer who has just come to Riverdale to practice. I think Will Chandler has rented him our offices,” explained the boy.

      “Is he decent?” asked the old woman.

      “I – I think so, ma’am. I’ve never seen him but once, a half hour ago. But I’m sure he is competent to advise us.”

      “Go get him,” commanded Mrs. Ritchie.

      “It will be better for you to come with me,” replied Toby, anxious to relieve Janet of the woman’s disturbing presence. “We will go to the hotel, and I’ll leave you there while I hunt up Mr. Holbrook. He may be stopping at the hotel, you know.”

      The woman rose deliberately from her chair.

      “It’s getting late,” she said. “I want to get my property and drive home before dark. Come along, boy.”

      “Thank you, Toby,” whispered Janet, gratefully, as the two passed out of the room.

      Mrs. Ritchie’s horse was hitched to a post in front of the house. They climbed into the rickety buggy and she drove into town and to the rambling old clapboard hotel, which was located on the main street. It was beginning to grow dusk by this time.

      On the hotel porch stood the man they were seeking. Mr. Holbrook was smoking a cigarette and, with hands thrust deep in his pockets, was gazing vacantly down the street. Turning his attention to the arrivals the young lawyer seemed to recognize Toby. When the boy and the woman approached him he threw away his cigarette and bowed in deference to Mrs. Ritchie’s sex.

      “I am Judge Ferguson’s clerk, sir,” began Toby.

      “Yes; I know.”

      “And this is Mrs. Ritchie, who employed the judge as her confidential business agent.”

      “I am glad to know you, madam. Step into the hotel parlor, please. There we may converse with more comfort.”

      When they had entered the parlor Toby explained the situation. Mrs. Ritchie wanted her box of private papers and Toby was not sure he had the right to give them up without legal authority.

      “That is correct,” observed Mr. Holbrook. “You must have an order from the Probate Court to dispose of any property left by Judge Ferguson.”

      “It’s my property!” snapped the woman.

      “Very true, madam. We regret that you should be so annoyed. But you can readily understand that your interests are being safeguarded by the law. If anyone, without authority, could deliver your box to you, he might also deliver it to others, in which case you would suffer serious loss. There will be no difficulty, however, in securing the proper order from the court; but that will require a few days’ time.”

      “There’s money in that box,” said Mrs. Ritchie. “I don’t trust those swindling banks, so the judge kept all my ready money for me. In that box are thousands of dollars in cold cash, an’ some government bonds as good as cash. I need some money to-day. Can’t this boy let me into the office so I can take what I want out of the box? I’ve got a key, if Toby Clark will open the cupboard for me. I drove to town to-day for money to pay off my hands with, and found the judge died las’ night, without letting me know. A pretty pickle I’ll be in, if the law’s to keep me from my rightful property!”

      “You have no right to touch your box, Mrs. Ritchie. The boy has no right to allow you in Mr. Ferguson’s offices.”

      “Never mind that; no one will know, if we keep our mouths shut.”

      Mr. Holbrook smiled but shook his head.

      “I am sorry you should be so distressed,” he said gently, “but the inconvenience is but temporary, I assure you. If you employ me to get the order from the court I will see that there is no unnecessary delay.”

      “Humph!” said the woman, looking at him shrewdly. “Will it cost anything?”

      “Merely my expenses to the city, a slight fee and the court charges.”

      “Merely a job to rob me, eh? You want me to pay good money to get hold of my own property?”

      “If you are in a hurry for it. Otherwise, by allowing the law to take its course, the property will be returned to you without charge.”

      She considered this statement, eyeing the young man suspiciously the while.

      “I’ll think it over,” was her final verdict. “To-morrow I’ll drive into town again. Don’t you blab about what I’ve told you is in that box, Holbrook. If you’re goin’ to settle in this town you’ll have to learn to keep your mouth shut, or you’ll get run out in short order. Judge Ferguson never blabbed and you’ll do well to follow his example. Come, Toby; I’m goin’ home.”

      “By the way,” remarked Mr. Holbrook, addressing the boy in meaning tones, “you’d better keep out of Mr. Ferguson’s offices until after an inventory is made by the proper authorities. If you have a key, as I suspect – for I saw you in the office – get rid of it at once; for, if anything is missing, you might be held responsible.”

      Toby saw the value of this advice.

      “I’ll give my key to Mr. Spaythe, at the bank, for safe keeping,” he said.

      “That’s right,” returned the young man, nodding approval.

      “Mr. Spaythe was the judge’s best friend and I think he’ll be the executor, under the terms of the will,” continued Toby, thoughtfully.

      “In any event, get rid of the key,” counseled Mr. Holbrook.

      “I will, sir.”

      When they were standing alone by Mrs. Ritchie’s buggy the woman asked in a low voice:

      “So you’ve got the key, have you?”

      “Yes,” said Toby.

      “Then we’ll go to the office and get my box, law or no law. I’ll make it worth your while, Toby Clark, and no one will ever know.”

      The boy shook his head, casting a whimsical smile at the unscrupulous old woman.

      “No bribery and corruption for me, ma’am, thank you. I’m somewhat inclined to be honest, in my humble way. But I couldn’t do it, anyhow, Mrs. Ritchie, because Judge Ferguson always kept the key to the cupboard himself, on the same ring that he kept the keys to all the boxes.”

      “Where are his keys, then?”

      “At his house, I suppose.”

      “Tcha! That impudent girl of his has

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