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John Marsh's Millions Part 11

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"I could retain ex-Senator Wratchett--but he would ask twenty-five thousand dollars in advance. He's not as good a lawyer as Cooley, but he has more pull." Excitedly he went on: "Ah! that's what we want, Paula--political pull! My G.o.d! What a farce life is! When I was a minister of the Gospel I was a dreamer, howling for purity and truth.

Now I'm awake, with my feet on the earth. I'm praying for a liar and a trickster to come and help us out--and cursing myself because I haven't the money to buy him----"

"Twenty-five thousand dollars!" she echoed helplessly. With a bitter laugh she went on: "I p.a.w.ned my last ring this morning to pay Mrs.

Parkes the money I owed her. You gave the Judge the whole history of the case--you told him how my uncle has deliberately stood in the way of my getting my rights for two years--you told him that he is my worst enemy?"

"Yes--everything."

"And yet he appointed him my custodian and guardian?"

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders. Dryly he replied:

"He belongs to the same political organization as Cooley. In this State," he went on, "in order to get the nomination, a judge or his friends are expected to contribute a large sum of money to the campaign fund--the idea is that he owes something to the men who pay that money for him, that he must show some grat.i.tude to those who nominate and elect him--fine ethics, eh? I think I'll go back to the pulpit----"

"Can my uncle compel me to live with him?" demanded Paula.

"Yes," he replied. "I'm afraid so."

The girl jumped up, her hands clenched, her face flushed with anger.

Hotly she cried:

"I won't--I won't--live with him! I hate that vulgar, showy woman--his wife! She sneered at me in court because I cried when they said my father drank himself to death. I hate that foolish, giggling son of hers--I hate them all! They've spoiled my life, they've robbed me of the joy of youth. I'm old before my time! My G.o.d! I'm not twenty, and I feel worn out. It's a shame the abominable way they've hounded me, but I won't give in--I won't----"

"Come, come, Paula," said the lawyer soothingly. "I feel just as badly as you do about it--I----"

He stopped abruptly and looked out of the window.

Paula watched him in silence. Something within told her that if this man felt bitter under defeat, it was more for her sake than for his own.

"Go on," she said, more gently.

"I don't see that we can do anything more just now," he continued. "The fact is, I'm a bit bewildered. I'm simply stunned!" Hesitatingly, he went on: "I feel I'm to blame to a certain extent. I don't think I quite understand my profession. There are so many laws--so many loopholes to evade the law--so many ramifications--so many interpretations. It's all law--law--law--nothing but law--the question of equity and justice is completely lost sight of in the chaos of procedure--the letter of the law is there, but the spirit is wanting!"

Sitting down, he buried his face in his hands, the picture of utter discouragement.

Paula approached and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Mr. Ricaby," she said kindly. "You've done your best, but just think! To be compelled to live with my uncle, the man who destroyed my father's memory, who reviled my mother! Oh, it's--it's monstrous! No, they shan't compel me--I defy them--I defy the law! What do you advise?"

The lawyer shook his head.

"You will gain nothing by openly defying them," he said. "When in doubt--wait! Meantime I'll go and see ex-Senator Wratchett. Perhaps I can interest him in our behalf. I'll move Heaven and earth to get him--set a thief to catch a thief, eh? Oh, it's a glorious game! G.o.d knows I've tried to be fair!"

They were so busy talking that they did not hear a timid knock on the door. Mrs. Parkes put her head in.

"A gentleman to see Miss Marsh!" she said, holding out a card.

Paula's face brightened and then grew serious as she caught sight of the name on the bit of pasteboard.

"It's Mr. Chase," she said, turning to the lawyer. "He hasn't been here for an age. I'm surprised he has called so soon after the rendering of the decision. Do you think I should receive him?"

Mrs. Parkes seemed surprised that there should be any question about it.

"He came in a beautiful motor car!" she exclaimed. "Oh, what a magnificent machine! Royal blue color and such a handsome uniform the chauffeur has----"

Mr. Ricaby frowned. He had never approved of this friendship with a young man whose motives he had reason to suspect very strongly. His calling so soon after the verdict was certainly not in the best of taste. It was more than likely that he was a spy sent by the ingenious Mr. Cooley to ferret out their plan of action. Mr. Chase had been very amiable and attentive to them in Paris and during the voyage home, but all that might be only part of the game. On the other hand, if it was a prearranged plan it would work both ways. With a little careful maneuvering they, too, might be able to find out from Tod what new tack the enemy was working on. So, on second thoughts, it might be well to encourage his visits.

"Tell him to come up," he said to the landlady.

Mrs. Parkes bounced out, and a moment later Tod entered.

"I hope I don't intrude," was his cheery greeting.

"Not at all," replied Paula, somewhat coldly. "Won't you sit down?" she said.

He took a seat and drew off his gloves. Affably, he said:

"Thanks--yes. I'll even take a cup of tea if you'll ask me. When I once get started on a proposition I go right round the course--even with a punctured tire." Turning to the lawyer, he went on: "Say, Mr. Ricaby--I just heard that the case has gone against you. That's fierce! I've come to have a little family talk-fest."

He stopped and looked at his hostess and the lawyer. Both remained silent and non-committal. With a shrug of his shoulders, he continued:

"No answer? Well, then, I'll talk to myself, and you can listen till you feel like joining in----"

"Are you here at the request of your stepfather?" interrupted Mr. Ricaby coldly.

The young man gave him a look that was intended to be withering.

Instinctively he knew that Mr. Ricaby was no friend of his, and perhaps he guessed the reason. But he did not come to see the lawyer. He liked Paula and was sincerely sorry for her. He did not propose to be bluffed out of his newly made friendship by the unreasonable suspicion of a jealous rival. Sharply he retorted:

"No. I am here at my own request. I'm sorry for this little girl. I saw her in court several times when they were trying to break the will, and my heart went out to her. I want to help her. Oh, I know I don't look like anybody's friend. I'm fat--I'm selfish--and I love myself to distraction--and all that, but--I give you my word I felt sorry for her.

I'll never forget her face the day she testified. Gee whiz! Cooley laid it onto Uncle John--your father I mean--didn't he? It wasn't right--I felt sorry, and I told Jimmy so. Miss Marsh, believe it or not--I'm here to express myself as thoroughly disgusted with the methods my folks have employed to get Uncle John's money."

"Why do you call my father Uncle John?" demanded Paula haughtily.

"I got your Uncle Jimmy when he married my mother," laughed Tod, "and I take everything that goes with him--including Uncle John and you--I don't see why I shouldn't have the nice things, too."

"Thank you," she answered, trying to suppress a smile.

Tod grinned.

"I understand you're coming to live with us?" he said.

Paula's face darkened again.

"Am I?" she said frigidly.

"Cooley says so," he went on, "and Jimmy seconded the motion, so I thought I'd come ahead--and sort of break the ice, as it were. I told mother and she said it wasn't a bad idea--for me--and here I am. You are coming, aren't you? It'll be awfully jolly for me. Please say yes--one plunge and it's all over."

Paula was forced to laugh in spite of herself. Then recalling suddenly his att.i.tude at the trial, she demanded:

"Why did you laugh in court when they said my father was a drunkard?"

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John Marsh's Millions Part 11 summary

You're reading John Marsh's Millions. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Arthur Hornblow and Charles Klein. Already has 683 views.

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