He had only to wait. This wild Irish brick-layer--and who knows
what beside--who was he to block the Elder's plans with his handful of
gold?
The gold! How well the Judge remembered that day, and how when Mike was
gone, he had sat contemplating the shining pieces! What a fool the man
was to carry such stuff on his person! The careful Judge never dreamed
that the money had come from his own bank. The Irishman was going away on
the morrow. Planning gleefully to surprise his sister, he had told no
one. He would wander far. It would be years before he would return, if he
ever came back. By that time the property would be--
It was seemingly all too easy. The Judge's character was not a character
to resist such an opportunity. The gold alone perhaps would not have won,
but the gold and the place--the place he had planned for and felt so
certain of owning--that was too much!
And now this big sad-faced preacher--the Irishman again, and the bank!
The more the Judge thought over Dan's quiet words, the more he saw the
danger.
So it came about, that the next morning Dan, waiting in his study,
received a visitor--the good old Elder--Nathaniel Jordan.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE VICTORY OF THE ALLY
"So the old Doctor found him in the late afternoon--his great strength
shaken by rage and doubt; found him struggling like a beast in the trap."
Nathaniel was greatly agitated as he faced the minister in the doorway.
He moved unsteadily across the room, stumbling toward the chair Dan
offered, and his hand shook so violently that his cane rattled against
the window ledge, where he attempted to lay it--rattled and fell to the
floor.
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