Eh, Moll?" The latter part of the sentence was addressed
to the pretty animal that was reined up before the court-yard just
as the speaker rose to his feet.
It was four o'clock and Mr. Sharpley, taking the ribbons from the
boy with all the importance of his position, rode down Main street
towards the old fort, and afterwards through the different streets
lined with the most imposing and stately residence so characteristic
of the southern portion of the city.
Have patience, reader, while we give another thought to the
crumpled letter. Its pages make mention of one very dear to us.
Phillip Lawson is on the eve of being the dupe of two unprincipled
schemers.
Hubert Tracy knew well where to look for an accomplice. He
possessed money or the means of getting it, and he knew that for
the precious dust the high handed and unscrupulous soul of
Nicholas Sharpley was his only help.
"Ten thousand--not bad--and more to follow," were the words that
rose to Mr. Sharpley's lips and which he muttered incoherently as
he sat over a rubber of whist in a private apartment of the hotel
on the self-same evening, and as the many-sided character of the
attorney-at-law presented itself, we can see in bold relief a
placard bearing the mark "$10,000--not bad--and more to follow.
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