"I can stand it," answered Ray with assumed indifference. "You see, my dear fellow, you have brought your wares to the wrong market. Of course you are disappointed." "Yes, especially as I am dead broke." "No doubt." "And it prompts me to take my chances with the will in spite of the death of the rightful heirs." "What do you propose to do?" "Lay the matter before a shrewd lawyer of my acquaintance, and be guided by his advice." Stephen Ray looked uneasy. The lawyer might suggest doubts as to the truth of his story concerning Ernest's decease. "That would be very foolish," he said. "Would it? Then perhaps you can suggest a better course." "You are a man of education and have been a lawyer yourself. Get a place in the office of some attorney and earn an honest living." "You see how I am dressed. Who would employ me in this garb?" "There is something in what you say. I feel for you, Bolton. Changed as you are, you were once a friend. I certainly haven't any reason to feel friendly to you, especially as you came here with the intention of extorting money from me. But I can make allowance for you in your unfortunate plight, and am willing to do something for you. Bring me the document you say you possess, and I will give you fifty no, a hundred dollars." Bolton eyed his prosperous companion with a cunning smile. "No, Stephen Ray, I prefer to keep the will," he replied, "though I can do nothing with it. Give me the money unconditionally, and if I get on my feet you will have nothing to fear from me." CHAPTER XXVI. BOUGHT OFF. Bolton's reply did not quite suit Mr. Ray, but he felt that if he said too much about the will it would give it an exaggerated importance in the eyes of the man before him. So he answered carelessly, "Oh, very well! The document is of no value, and though I should prefer to have it, I won't insist. I will give you the hundred dollars, but I wish it understood that it is all I can give you at any time. Don't apply to me again, for it will be of no use." "I understand," said Bolton, non-committally. "Shall I give you a check?" "I could do better with the money. My name is not known now at any bank." "Well, I think I can accommodate you. I believe I have that sum in my desk." He opened a drawer in his secretary, and produced a hundred dollars in crisp new bills. They had been taken from the bank the day before for a different purpose. Bolton took them joyfully. It was long since he had had so much money in his possession. He had been his own worst enemy. Once a prosperous lawyer, he had succumbed to the love of drink, and gradually lost his clients and his position. But he had decided to turn over a new leaf, and he saw in this money the chance to reinstate himself, and in time recover his lost position. "Thank you," he said; but while there was relief there was no gratitude in his tone.