“The estate,” said my new friend, “is small, Jacob; but right is right, and there is no reason why this man Rucker should not be made to disgorge every cent that’s coming to you—­every cent!  I know Doctor Rucker slightly, and I hope I shall not shock you if I say that in my opinion he would steal the Lord’s Supper, and wipe his condemned lousy red whiskers and his freckled claws with the table-cloth!  That’s the kind of pilgrim and stranger Rucker is.  He will cheat you out of your eye teeth, sir, unless you are protected by the best legal talent to be had—­the best to be had—­the talent and the advice of the man to whom your late lamented mother went for counsel.”

“Yes,” said I after a while, “I think he will.”

“That is why your mother,” he went on, “advised with me; for even if I have to say it, I’m a living whirlwind in court.  Suppose we have a drink!”

I sat with my drink before me, slowly sipping it, and trying to see through this man and the new question he had brought up.  Certainly, I was entitled to my mother’s property—­all of it by rights, whatever the law might be—­for it came through my father.  Surely this lawyer must be a good man, or my mother wouldn’t have consulted him.  But when I mentioned to my new friend, whose name was Jackway, my claim to the whole estate he assured me that Rucker was the legal owner of his share in it—­I forget how much.

“And,” said he, “I make no doubt the old scoundrel has reduced the whole estate to possession, and is this moment,” lowering his voice secretively, “acting as executor de son tort—­executor de son tort, sir!  I wouldn’t put it past him!”

I wrote this, with some other legal expressions in my note-book.

“How can I get this money away from him?” said I, coming to the point.

“Money!” said he.  “How do we know it is money?  It may be chattels, goods, wares or merchandise.  It may be realty.  It may be choses in action.  We must require of him a complete discovery.  We may have to go back to the original probate proceedings through which your mother became seized of this property to obtain the necessary information.  How old are you?”

I told him that I was sixteen the twenty-seventh of the last July.

“A minor,” said he; “in law an infant.  A guardian ad litem will have to be appointed to protect your interests, and to bring suit for you.  I shall be glad to serve you, sir, in the name of justice; and to confound those with whom robbery of the orphan is an occupation, sir, a daily occupation.  Come up to my office with me, and we will begin proceedings to make Rucker sweat!”

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