CHAPTER XX.
BAFFLED, BUT NOT DISCOURAGED.
The triumphant look on the face of James Grey faded, and was replacedby one of baffled rage and disappointment.
"It's a lie!" he exclaimed, speaking rather what he wished than what hebelieved.
"You are mistaken," said Gilbert, in the same calm tone. "The paper youhave just torn up was in my own handwriting."
"I have no doubt of that. I thought, all the time, that it was animposture which you had got up."
"I made a copy of it from the original this morning," said our hero.
"Why did you not bring the original, if there is one?"
"Because I was afraid you might be tempted to destroy it. It seems Iwas right," added Gilbert, with a glance at the torn pieces of paperwhich littered the carpet at his feet.
James Grey was terribly provoked. He had "shown his hand," so to speak,and gained nothing by it. If his nephew's story was true, the dreadedpaper was still in existence, and likely to be guarded more carefullythan ever. Gilbert's calmness was a strong indication of thecorrectness of his story. Were the real paper destroyed, he could nothelp showing agitation.
"Do you mean to say that you have another paper than this?" hedemanded.
"I do," said our hero.
"You must show me that, or I shall not believe you have it."
"I am not quite a fool, Uncle James," said Gilbert. "I know as well asyou how valuable that paper is, and I am not going to risk it."
"You seem to be a remarkably prudent young man," said Mr. Grey, with asneer--"quite an old head upon young shoulders."
"I ought to be," said Gilbert. "I was educated to the streets of NewYork. There I had to knock about for myself and earn my own living, atan age when most boys are carefully looked after by their parents. Ilearned to look out for my own interests there. I am indebted to youfor that kind of training. You must not complain now if I use itagainst you."
Mr. Grey sat a moment in deep and troubled thought. This nephew of histurned out to be a decidedly formidable opponent. How could he copewith him?
"Have you told any one in this city about these false claims of yours?"he asked, after awhile.
"I have not spoken to any one about _false_ claims," said Gilbert,coldly.
"Call them what you will. Have you spoken of having any claims to mybrother's property to any one here?"
"I have."
"To whom?"
"To Mr. Ferguson."
James Grey frowned. Mr. Ferguson was one of the last men to whom hewould have wished the communication known.
"He must have laughed at your ridiculous story."
"On the contrary, he fully believes it."
"I did not think him so gullible. Have you spoken to him about my beingin the city?"
"I have."
"Did he know you were to call upon me this afternoon?"
"I told him before I came."
Things were evidently getting more serious than Mr. Grey had supposed.Not only was Gilbert a young man who meant business, but he was backedby a merchant of standing, whose former connection with the Grey familymade his co-operation and favor of no slight importance. James Grey sawthat he must temporize. Had he followed out his inclination, he wouldhave sprung upon his obdurate nephew and pounded him to a jelly. Butunfortunately he was in a civilized city, where laws are supposed toafford some protection from personal assault, and this course,therefore, was not to be thought of. Since violence, then, was notpracticable, he must have recourse to stratagem, and, to put Gilberttemporarily off his guard, he must play a part.
"Well, young man," he said, at length, "I am not prepared at present topronounce a definite opinion upon your claim. Of course, if reallyconvinced that you were my nephew, I would acknowledge you to be such."
"I have some doubts as to that," thought Gilbert.
"But it does not seem to me very probable that such is the case. Ofcourse, I objected to being duped by an impostor. You cannot blame mefor that."
"No."
"At first, your claim appeared to me preposterous, and I pronounced itto be so. Upon reflection, though I strongly doubt its genuineness, Iam willing to take time to consider it."
"That is fair," said Gilbert.
"I shall consult with a lawyer on the subject, and institute someinquiries of my own. Then, besides, my time will be partly occupiedwith other business, on which I have come hither. You may come again,say in a week, and I shall perhaps be able to give you a definiteanswer."
"Very well," said Gilbert. "Good-morning."
"Good-morning," responded his uncle, following him to the door. "I'dlike to kick you down stairs, you young villain," he added, _sottovoce_.
James Grey shut the door of his chamber, and sat down to think. It wascertainly an emergency that called for serious thought. Gilbert's claimwould strip him of four-fifths of his fortune, and reduce him from arich man to a comparatively poor one.
"I am not safe as long as that paper exists," he concluded. "It must bestolen from the boy, in some way." But how? He felt that he wanted anunscrupulous tool through whose agency he might get possession of oldJacob's confession. That destroyed, he could snap his fingers atGilbert, and live undisturbed in the possession of the fortune hewrongfully withheld from him.
Sometimes the devil sends to evil men precisely what they most want,and so it turned out in this particular instance.
That evening Mr. Grey was walking thoughtfully in the street,reflecting upon his difficult situation, when his sharp ears caught thesound of his nephew's name, pronounced by two boys, or young men, infront of him. Not to keep the reader in suspense, they were MauriceWalton and a friend of his, named Isaac Baker.
"I tell you, Baker," said Maurice, warmly, "it's the greatest piece ofinjustice my being paid only half the salary of that sneak, GilbertGrey."
"I suppose he's a favorite with Ferguson, isn't he?"
"That's just it. I'm as good a clerk as he is, any day, yet he getstwenty dollars a week, while I only get ten. It's enough to make afellow swear."
"Did you ever speak to Ferguson about it?"
"Yes, but that was all the good it did. He seems to think there'snobody like Grey."
"How did Grey get in with him?"
"I believe he's a nephew of the man Ferguson used to work for. Besideshe's got a way of getting round people. He's a humbug and a hypocrite."
Maurice spoke with bitterness, and evidently felt strongly on thesubject. He had another grievance, which he did not choose to speak of,of which our readers have already had a glimpse. His cousin, BessieBenton, persisted in the bad taste of preferring Gilbert to him. Ofcourse they were too young for anything serious; but, in the socialgatherings to which all three were invited, Bessie was, of course, therecipient of attentions from both, and she had, on more than oneoccasion, shown unmistakably her preference for Gilbert Grey. Only twoevenings previous, she had danced with Gilbert, but, when Mauriceapplied, had told him her card was full. It was not an intentionalslight, and, had he come up earlier, he would have been successful insecuring her. But he chose to regard it as a slight, and this naturallyembittered him still more, partly against his cousin, but most of allagainst Gilbert, who, both in business and with the fair sex, seemed tohave eclipsed him.
"I suppose, under the circumstances, you don't like Grey much?" saidhis companion.
"Like him!" returned Maurice, with bitter emphasis. "I should thinknot. He's a mean grasping fellow, and I hate him. He's got the insidetrack now, but my turn may come some time."
James Grey listened to this conversation with increasing interest. Itseemed to open a way for him to success.
"Come," thought he, "here is just the fellow I want. He hates mydangerous nephew, and can easily be molded to my purposes. I willfollow him, and, as soon as I can speak to him alone, I will see if Icannot win him to my side."