“He is at school yet, I believe,” replied Mr. Wallingford, not showing much interest in the matter.

“He must be nearly of age,” said I.

“About twenty, if his years were correctly given.”

“He will come into the possession of a handsome property,” I remarked.

“Yes, if it can be found by the time he is ready to receive it.”

“Can be found!  I don’t comprehend you, Mr. Wallingford?  Do you mean to question the integrity of the men who are executors to the estate?”

“No.  But, they have embarked in the same vessel with an unscrupulous villain—­so I regard Ralph Dewey—­and have, as far as I can see, given the rudder into his hands.  If he do not wreck them on some dangerous coast, or sunken rock, it will be more from good fortune than anything else.”

“He is partner in a very wealthy firm,” said I.

“The standing of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., is, you know, undoubted.  He can’t wreck out friends Bigelow and Floyd, without ruining them also.”

“I was in New York a few months ago, on business,” Mr. Wallingford replied, “and it so happened, that I heard the firm of which Dewey is a partner spoken of.  Among other remarks, was this:  ’They are thought to be very much extended.’”

“What is the meaning of that?” asked Mrs. Wallingford.

“It is understood in business circles,” replied her husband, “to mean, that a house is doing too much business for the amount of capital employed, and that it has issued, in consequence, a large amount of paper.  Any very heavy losses to a firm in this condition might prove disastrous.”

“Too much extended?” said I, thoughtfully, some new impressions forming themselves in my mind.

“Yes, that was the opinion held by the individual I refer to; and he was not one to speak carelessly on so grave a matter.”

“If the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co. should go down,” I remarked, “there will be sad work in S——.”

“There will, without any doubt,” replied Mr. Wallingford.

“The executors to the Allen estate might find themselves in a most unfortunate position,” said I.

“Such a position as I would not be in, for all the world.  Any thing but dishonor!”

“How dishonor?” asked Constance.

“The whole estate would be, I fear, involved.”

“They gave security,” said I.

“But the sureties are not worth a tenth part of the sum for which they stand responsible.  The court acted with a singular want of discretion in appointing them.”

“You don’t mean to have us infer that Judge Bigelow and Squire Floyd have used the funds of this estate for their own purposes, to any great extent?”

“I would not care to say this out of doors, Doctor, but that is just my opinion of the matter as it now stands.  Dewey is guardian to the heir, and would favor, rather than oppose, such a use of the funds.”