43. CHAPTER XLIII.
A HALF-EXPECTED VISITOR.
Two days later, at a quarter to four, Regina
entered Mr. Gray's office. She was a little nervous,
for the predictions of the spirits had excited
her imagination, if their reasoning had not
convinced her understanding.
“If Mr. James Smith should come,” she said,
“what would you think?'
“Let us wait until he comes; we can think
afterwards.”
“How cool you are! For my part, if this
man comes after all that has been predicted, I
shall faint.”
Mr. Gray stood by the window. He had already
observed a man, of middle age and homely
aspect, standing upon the opposite sidewalk.
The man was coarsely but decently dressed, his
face was bronzed with exposure—at least that
portion of it that could be seen between a slouch
hat pulled down over his forehead and a grizzly
beard that covered his jaw.
“I have an idea,” he said to his companion,
“that you will have occasion to faint. There
stands our man.”
Regina approached the window.
“Don't frighten him away. He is said to be
a brave pioneer; but he may not have the kind
of courage to face a pretty woman. Let us give our
friends, the `ghosts,' a fair chance.”
Miss Shaw concealed herself behind a curtain and
bent one eye on the solitary figure opposite. The man
drew a piece of paper from his pocket, examined it,
and then continued his scrutiny of the building which
had at first been the object of his regard.
At last, as if satisfied, he slowly crossed the streetand
was lost to the view of the silent watchers.
A moment afterward a slow and heavy footstep was
heard ascending the stairs. Regina, pale and trembling,
escaped into the outer office, and sank into a
chair in the most retired corner.
Her abrupt entrance surprised Tim in the midst of
a difficult feat of balancing, and caused a mortifying
failure.
The homely stranger stood hesitatingly at the
entrance, and Tim went forward to receive his commands.
“Is this Mr. Gray's office?” asked the man.
Tim replied briskly in the affirmative. The man
entered, and was ushered into the private office.
Tim, being at liberty, gallantly invited Miss Shaw
to join in his amusements—an offer which that young
lady silently declined.
Mr. Gray, meantime, had received his half-expected
visitor.
“In what can I serve you?” he asked, politely, when
his visitor was seated.
“I was told to come here, and to ask for Mr. Gray'
and to talk to no one else,” replied the man.
“I am Mr. Gray, and we are alone.”
“If you're the man I want to see, you'll know my
business when I tell you that Mother Nell sent me
here.”
“I know Mother Nell. Are you Mr. James
Smith?”
“James Smith is my name.”
“Do you live in the city?”
“Here off and on. Been in Idaho better'n two
years.”
“When did you leave Idaho?”
“Four or five weeks ago.”
“Did you know, when you decided to come to the
city, that a suit was pending in which you might be
interested?”
“Didn't know it when I started; Mother Nell told
me something about it.”
“What caused you to come just at this time?”
“Nothing in partic'lar. Got tired prospectin', and
thought I'd come down and stay a spell.”
“You are come just in time. A suit to determine
who are the heirs of your deceased brother's estate will
be tried the day after to-morrow.”
“Didn't know when. Mother Nell told me something
about the suit.”
“When I said your deceased brother's estate, I took
it for granted that John Smith, of Smith's Pocket,
was your brother. Can you prove that he was your
brother?”
“Don't know. We wasn't together much. Don't
remember many people that knew we were brothers.”
“Can you not recall one person now living that
knew by common report that you and John Smith
were brothers?”
“There's Mother Nell.”
“Mother Nell is not a reliable witness. She has a
dread of appearing in court.”
“I know. She got into trouble a few years ago, and
is afraid it will come up against her.”
“Think of some other person.”
“Let me see. There's a saloon-keeper named Drake
somewhere in the city—if he isn't dead. He knew
John and me fifteen years ago.”
“Were you married in Stockton in 1852?”
“Yes.”
“Is the man who performed the ceremony living?”
“No; he died more'n fifteen years ago.”
“Is the woman that you married still living?”
“Was two years ago. Haven't seen her lately.
'Spect she is the woman that Mother Nell said was
trying to palm herself off as John's widder.”
“Would you know the woman if you should see
her?”
“Know her! I'd know her 'mong ten thousand.
Mighty fine-looking woman, but a reg'lar devil.”
“Well, Mr. Smith, this woman pretending to be
your brother's widow and the mother of your
brother's daughter, has caused your brother's
daughter to be carried off. We do not know if Mliss
is living or not. If she still lives, she is, of course,
your brother's heir. If she is dead you are his heir,
as next of kin, if you can establish the relationship.”
A long conversation followed, which we need not repeat.
Mr. Gray satisfied himself that his visitor was
in fact the brother of John Smith, as had been represented
both by Mother Nell and by the communication
he had received through Mrs. Rhodes. The
causes which led to his opportune return were still a
mystery. Mr. Smith was not conscious of being influenced
to visit the city. He had come, he said, of
his own accord. It was his habit to come to town
once in two or three years, and remain until he got
tired of city life, or had exhausted his resources. He
did not seem much clated at the prospect of becoming
his brother's heir, nor much interested in his niece.
He professed his willingness, however, to go into
court and testify to facts.
Mr. Gray had made provision to keep this important
witness subject to his order, without seeming to
place him in custody. An experienced member of the
detective force took him in charge when he left Mr.
Gray's office, in the friendly guise of a boon companion,
not only to secure his appearance when wanted,
but to guard against any possible approach of the
enemy.
