'I gave him a hundred pounds for his expenses, and promised a thousand if he were successful.'
Mrs. Ebenezer clapped her hands energetically. She was delighted, and thoroughly in agreement with her husband. What a shrewd fellow he was, to be sure, she thought. Why, a thousand pounds was well spent if only they could destroy that will, the existence of which paralysed their own schemes, and might make paupers of them. Then a sudden doubt came to her mind, for like every schemer and dishonest person this lady was quick to perceive where this plan might break down. She imagined herself in the place of the Chinaman who had come to her husband, and cogitated what she would do under similar circumstances.
'Why,' she suddenly declared, in no little alarm, 'a hundred pounds is riches to a Chinaman. Supposing this ruffian makes off with your money, and does not try to help you. Supposing he forgets all about us once he has left the country?'
'He has left the country already,' came the swift and somewhat disconcerting answer. 'I sent him off hurriedly; he will not fail us.'
'Why?' Mrs. Clayhill was insistent. More than that, she was more than usually artful. In fact, Edward Harbor, poor fellow, could not have come across a woman less suited to his tastes and feelings, while Ebenezer Clayhill found in the widow of the late Edward Harbor a woman cunning and clever, and to some extent unscrupulous. To some large extent one might say, for who could describe the action of this pair as other than unscrupulous? Alas! the attempt to deprive a near relative of possessions due to him is nothing new. The same sort of sordid scheme has been practised many a time with variations, and sometimes with success. Not every case has been associated with a lad of David Harbor's nature, nor with one possessed of his determination and courage. Still, if in this particular affair there were such a person, as these two schemers had found already to their chagrin and cost, on the other side our hero was opposed to a couple of crafty people, of whom Mrs. Clayhill was by no means the inferior.
'How do you know that this fellow will not fail us?' she demanded, rising from her seat and walking to the window, which she threw up, as if the room were too hot for her. 'How? I am suspicious.'