ater will--and destroyed
it."

"It is a vile slander!"

"No; I will swear that such a will was made."

"If it was destroyed, he destroyed it himself."

"No, he did not. I am willing to swear that when he died that will was in
existence."

"I don't think your swearing will do much good," sneered Stephen Ray.

"Perhaps so, but one thing has not occurred to you."

"What is that?"

"A duplicate of the last will was placed in my hands. That will exists
to-day!"

Stephen Ray started violently.

"I don't believe it," he said.

"Seeing is believing."

"Then bring it here, and let me see it. However, there is one material
circumstance that would make it of no value."

"What is it?"

"My cousin Dudley is dead, and so is his son Ernest. There would be no one
to profit by the production of the alleged will."

Bolton was quite taken aback by this statement, as Stephen Ray perceived,
and he plumed himself on the success of his falsehood.

"When did the boy die?" asked Bolton.

"About five years ago."

"And where?"

"At Savannah," answered Ray glibly.

"What should have taken him down there?"

"I am not positive, but I believe after his father's death a Southern
gentleman became interested in him and took him to Georgia, where the poor
boy died."

Bolton looked keenly at the face of his companion, and detected an
expression of triumph about the eyes which led him to doubt the truth of
his story. But he decided not to intimate his disbelief.

"That was sad," he said.

"Yes, and as you will see, even had your story about the will been true,
it would have made no difference in the disposal of the property."

"Still the revelation of your complicity in the suppression of the last
will would injure your reputation, Mr. Ray."

"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."

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 y