The lawyer nodded.  “There is nothing to be gained by endeavoring to controvert it.  Colonel Barrington is also, as you know, a somewhat determined gentleman.”

Winston laughed, for he was essentially a stubborn man, and felt little kindliness towards any one connected with Courthorne, as the Colonel evidently was.

“I fancy I am not entirely unlike him in that respect,” he said.  “What you have told me makes me the more determined to follow my own inclination.  Is there any one else at Silverdale prejudiced against me?”

The lawyer fell into the trap.  “Miss Barrington, of course, takes her brother’s view, and her niece would scarcely go counter to them.  She must have been a very young girl when she last saw you, but from what I know of her character I should expect her to support the Colonel.”

“Well,” said Winston, “I want to think over the thing.  We will talk again to-morrow.  You would require me to establish my identity, any way?”

“The fact that a famous inquiry agent has traced your movements down to a week or two ago, and told me where to find you, will render that simple,” said the lawyer dryly.

Winston sat up late that night turning over the papers the lawyer left him and thinking hard.  It was evident that in the meanwhile he must pass as Courthorne, but as the thought of taking the money revolted him, the next step led to the occupation of the dead man’s property.  The assumption of it would apparently do nobody a wrong, while he felt that Courthorne had taken so much from him that the farm at Silverdale would be a very small reparation.  It was not, he saw, a great inheritance, but one that in the right hands could be made profitable, and Winston, who had fought a plucky fight with obsolete and worthless implements and indifferent teams, felt that he could do a great deal with what was, as it were, thrust upon him at Silverdale.  It was not avarice that tempted him, though he knew he was tempted now, but a longing to find a fair outlet for his energies, and show what, once given the chance that most men had, he could do.  He had stinted himself and toiled almost as a beast of burden, but now he could use his brains in place of wringing the last effort out of overtaxed muscle.  He had also during the long struggle lost to some extent his clearness of vision, and only saw himself as a lonely man fighting for his own hand with fate against him.  Now, when prosperity was offered him, it seemed but folly to stand aside when he could stretch out a strong hand and take it.

During the last hour he sat almost motionless, the issue hung in the balance, and he laid himself down still undecided.  Still, he had lived long in primitive fashion in close touch with the soil, and sank, as most men would not have done, into restful sleep.  The sun hung red above the rim of the prairie when he awakened, and going down to breakfast found the lawyer waiting for him.