"But," Etheridge now ventured, determined not to be outmatched in cunning, "you say she was penurious, too penurious to live comfortably or to let you do so." Huckins shrugged his shoulders and for a moment looked balked; then he cried: "The closest women have their whims. If she had known any such folks to have been living as you have named, she would have sent for them." "If you had let her," suggested Frank. Huckins turned upon him and his eye flashed. But he very soon cringed again and attempted a sickly smile, which completed the disgust the young lawyer felt for him. "If I had let her," he repeated; "I, who pined for companionship or anything which would have put a good meal into my mouth! You do not know me, sir; you are prejudiced against me because I want my earnings, and a little comfort in my old age." "If I am prejudiced against you, it is yourself who has made me so," returned the other. "Your conduct has not been of a nature to win my regard, since I have had the honor of your acquaintance." "And what has yours been, worming, as you have, into my sister's confidence----" But here Frank hushed him. "We will drop this," said he. "You know me, and I think I know you. I came to give you one last chance to play the man by helping me to find your relatives. I see you have no intention of doing so, so I will now proceed to find them without you." "If they exist," he put in. "Certainly, if they exist. If they do not----" "What then?" "I must have proofs to that effect. I must know that your sister left no heirs but yourself." "That will take time," he grumbled. "I shall be kept weeks out of my rights." "The Surrogate will see that you do not suffer." He shuddered and looked like a fox driven into his hole. "It is shameful, shameful!" he cried. "It is nothing but a conspiracy to rob me of my own. I suppose I shall not be allowed to live in my own house." And his eyes wandered greedily over the rafters above him. "Are you sure that it is yours?" "Yes, yes, damn you!" But the word had been hasty, and he immediately caught Frank's sleeve and cringed in contrition. "I beg your pardon," he cried, "perhaps we had better not talk any longer, for I have been too tried for patience. They will not even leave me alone in my grief," he whined, pointing towards the rooms full, as I have said, of jostling neighbors and gossips. "It will be quiet enough after the funeral," Frank assured him. "Oh! oh! the funeral!" he groaned. "Is it going to be too extravagant?" Frank insinuated artfully. Huckins gave the lawyer a look, dropped his eyes and mournfully shook his head. "The poor woman would not have liked it," he muttered; "but one must be decent towards one's own blood." VII. THE WAY OPENS. Frank succeeded in having Mr. Dickey appointed as Custodian of the property, then he went back to Marston.