"I suppose you consider it perfectly
legal to appropriate the inheritance of your nephew and lead townfolks
to believe that your sister died without leaving a child."

"You have no proof that you are Jenny's child. I'm not going to pay
you another cent. It's blackmail!"

"Call it what you like," replied Walter Crocker with a sneer. "I am
your sister Jenny's child whom you thought to be safely out of the way.
And I do have proof."

"I don't believe it," retorted the old man. "There could be no proof."

"You've already given me five hundred dollars hush money which is
indication enough that you accept my story as the truth."

"I did that merely to get rid of you."

"Well, you'll not escape so easily this time, Mr. Crocker. Either you
turn over a good portion of the estate to me or I'll go to law."

"Your case would be thrown out of court. Without proof----"

"My proof will stand up in any court," Walter Crocker interrupted. "It
happens that I have a certain packet of letters which were written to
you by my mother before her death. And there is another communication
from a woman named Hilda Frank----"

"So you are the one who stole the letters from the trunk of my
cottage!" Herman Crocker cried in rage. "I could have you arrested for
house breaking!"

"I'd not act too hastily if I were you," returned the nephew coolly.
"However, I didn't steal the letters. They came into my possession in
a perfectly legitimate way."

"I know better. You could have obtained those letters only by stealing
them!"

"I'll not argue with you," replied Walter Crocker evenly, "for after
all it is immaterial. The point is that I have the letters. Now will
you come to terms or shall I tell my story around Kendon?"

There was a long silence and then the girls heard Old Herman say in a
weary voice:

"How much do you want?"

"I thought you would be reasonable in the matter," the other returned
triumphantly. "I understand that my mother left an estate of eighty
thousand dollars."

"It was a great deal less than that," Old Herman muttered.

"Not wishing to be too hard on you I'll settle for an even fifty
thousand dollars," Walter Crocker went on.

"Fifty thousand dollars," the old man groaned. "It's robbery."

"You forget that I am entitled to the entire estate. It was you who
robbed me. Well, do you agree?"

"You must give me time to raise the money."

"I'll expect a first installment in exactly one week from