"Very improbable," replied Mr. Wyllys, shaking his head.
"A shrewd, cunning, quick-witted fellow, as I remember him, would not be likely to undertake such a case, unless he had some prospect of success," said Harry, pacing the room again. "He must know perfectly well that it is make or break with him. If he does not succeed, he will be utterly ruined."
"He will give us trouble, no doubt," said Mr. Wyllys. "He must have got the means of putting together a plausible story. And yet his audacity confounds me!"
"Eighteen years, is it not, since William Stanley's death?" asked Harry, turning to Mrs. Stanley.
"It will be eighteen years next October, since he sailed. I was married in November; and from that time we have never heard anything from the poor boy, excepting the report that the Jefferson, the ship in which he sailed, had been shipwrecked on the coast of Africa, the following winter, and all hands lost. That report reached us not long before my husband's death, and caused him to word his will in the way it is now expressed; giving to the son of his kinsman and old friend, half his property, in case his son's death should be confirmed. The report WAS confirmed, some months later, by the arrival of an American vessel, which had ridden out the storm that wrecked the Jefferson: she saw the wreck itself, sent a boat to examine it, but could find no one living; although several bodies were picked up, with the hope of reviving them. But you have heard the whole sad story before, Harry."
"Certainly; I merely wished to hear the facts again, ma'am, from your own lips, lest I might have forgotten some important point."
"Although you were quite a child at the time, Harry," said Mr. Wyllys, "eight or ten I believe, still, I should think you must remember the anxiety to discover the real fate of William Stanley. I have numbers of letters in my hands, answers to those I had written with the hope of learning something more positive on the subject. We sent several agents, at different times, to the principal sea-ports, to make inquiries among the sailors; it all resulted in confirming the first story, the loss of the Jefferson, and all on board. Every year, of course, made the point more certain."
"Still, we cannot say that is not impossible { sic} he should have escaped," observed Harry.
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the moving ray. Inhaling sibilantly, Max leaped after her.
Cannon-fodder, nothing else. Do you imagine, you fool,
amount of food he ate. He was the type you expect to swill
“Dutch,” was the reply; “but being a South African
bivouacked near us. They had no shelter during the rain.
I stumbled and spilt his cards on the floor. Then I kneeled
had nothing from you but suspicion and insult. The only
with frost, and I saw nothing of the landscape. Stumm was
innocent purpose: each parish has a public musket, and
my companion. I stood waiting, while a great crowd, mostly
man more common interests than the cultured guests of Bwana
to keep the gentleman waiting, and presently he came out