"Everything's in good shape," announced Bugher. "There ain't a claim against the property, now that Mrs. Gwyn has given up her idea of contesting the will. The property is in your name now, Mr. Gwynne,--and that reminds me that your father, in his will, spells your name with a double n and an e, while he spells hers with only one n. He took into consideration the fact that you spelled your name in the new-fangled way, as you say he used to spell it in Kentucky. And that also accounts for his signing the will 'Robert Gwyn, formerly known as Robert Gwynne.' It's legal, all right, properly witnessed and attested by two reliable men of this county." "I have seen a copy of the will." "Another queer thing about it is that he bequeathed certain property to you as 'my son, Kenneth Gwynne,'--while he fails to mention his daughter Viola at all, except to say that he bequeaths so-and-so to 'Rachel Gwyn, to give, bequeath and devise as she sees fit.' Of course, Viola, by law, is entitled to a share of the estate and it should have been so designated. Judge Wylie says she can contest the will if she so desires, on the ground that she is entitled to as much as you, Mr. Gwynne. But she has decided to let it stand as it is, and I guess she's sensible. All that her mother now has will go to her when said Rachel dies, and as it will be a full half of the estate instead of what might have been only a third, I guess she's had pretty good advice from some one." "The fact that my half-sister was not mentioned in the will naturally led me to conclude that no such person existed. I did not know till this morning, Mr. Bugher, that I had a half-sister." "Well," began the recorder, pursing his lips, "for that matter she didn't know she had a half-brother till the will was read, so she was almost as ignorant as you." "It's all very strange,--exceedingly strange." "When did your own mother die, if it's a fair question?" "In the year 1812. My father was away when she died." "Off to the war, I suppose." "Yes," said the young man steadily. "Off to the war," he lied, still staring out of the window. "I was left with my grandparents when he went off to make his fortune in this new country. It was not until I was fairly well grown that we heard that he was married to a woman named Rachel Carter." "Well, I guess it's something you don't like to talk about," said Mr. Bugher, and turned his attention to the records they were consulting. Later the young man called at the office of Mr. Cornell, the lawyer who had charge of his affairs. He had come to Lafayette prepared to denounce Rachel Carter, to drive her in shame and disgrace from the town, if necessary. Now he found himself confronted by a condition that distressed and perplexed him; his bitter resolve was rudely shaken and he was in a dire state of uncertainty. He was faced by a most unexpected and staggering situation.