"I did manage," began the old man, flicking off his ash with an admirable effect of calm, "to save a small nest-egg from the wreck, to keep me from the poorhouse in my old age. I did not wish to tell you this because, with your lack of acquaintance with business methods, the details would only confuse, and possibly mislead, you. I had, too, another reason for wishing to keep it a surprise. You have forced me, against my preferences, to tell you. As to this small pittance," he said, without the flicker of an eye-lash, "any court in the country would tell you that it is fairly and honorably mine." "Thank you. I appreciate your telling me this." Queed leaned over the table, and began speaking in a quiet, brisk voice. "Now, then, here is the situation. You have a certain sum of money put away somewhere, estimated to be not less than a hundred thousand dollars--" "Nothing of the sort! Far less than that! A few beggarly thousands, which--" "Very well--a few thousands. Of course your books will readily show the exact figures. This money was withheld at the time your affairs were settled, and therefore was not applied to reducing the--the loss on the trustee account. Of course, if its existence had been known, it would have been so applied. In other words, the Weyland estate has been deprived to the exact extent of the sum withheld. Fortunately, it is never too late to correct an error of this sort. My idea is that we should make the restitution without the loss of an unnecessary day." Doubtless the old man had seen it coming; he heard the galling proposal with a face which showed nothing stronger than profound surprise. "Restitution! My dear boy, I owe no restitution to any one." "You hardly take the position that you have acquired a title to the Weyland trustee funds?"