_Thirty_
One morning the colonel, while overseeing the work at the new millbuilding, stepped on the rounded handle of a chisel, which had beenleft lying carelessly on the floor, and slipped and fell, spraininghis ankle severely. He went home in his buggy, which was at the mill,and sent for Doctor Price, who put his foot in a plaster bandage andordered him to keep quiet for a week.
Peter and Phil went around to the Treadwells' to inform the ladies ofthe accident. On reaching the house after the accident, the colonelhad taken off his coat, and sent Peter to bring him one from thecloset off his bedroom.
When the colonel put on the coat, he felt some papers in the insidepocket, and taking them out, recognised the two old letters he hadtaken from the lining of his desk several months before. Thehousekeeper, in a moment of unusual zeal, had discovered and mendedthe tear in the sleeve, and Peter had by chance selected thisparticular coat to bring to his master. When Peter started, with Phil,to go to the Treadwells', the colonel gave him the two letters.
"Give these," he said, "to Miss Laura, and tell her I found them inthe old desk."
It was not long before Miss Laura came, with Graciella, to call on thecolonel. When they had expressed the proper sympathy, and had beenassured that the hurt was not dangerous, Miss Laura spoke of anothermatter.
"Henry," she said, with an air of suppressed excitement, "I have madea discovery. I don't quite know what it means, or whether it amountsto anything, but in one of the envelopes you sent me just now therewas a paper signed by Mr. Fetters. I do not know how it could havebeen left in the desk; we had searched it, years ago, in every nookand cranny, and found nothing."
The colonel explained the circumstances of his discovery of thepapers, but prudently refrained from mentioning how long ago they hadtaken place.
Miss Laura handed him a thin, oblong, yellowish slip of paper, whichhad been folded in the middle; it was a printed form, upon whichseveral words had been filled in with a pen.
"It was enclosed in this," she said, handing him another paper.
The colonel took the papers and glanced over them.
"Mother thinks," said Miss Laura anxiously, "that they are the paperswe were looking for, that prove that Fetters was in father's debt."
The colonel had been thinking rapidly. The papers were, indeed, apromissory note from Fetters to Mr. Treadwell, and a contract andmemorandum of certain joint transactions in turpentine and cottonfutures. The note was dated twenty years back. Had it been produced atthe time of Mr. Treadwell's death, it would not have been difficultto collect, and would have meant to his survivors the differencebetween poverty and financial independence. Now it was barred by thelapse of time.
Miss Laura was waiting in eager expectation. Outwardly calm, her eyeswere bright, her cheeks were glowing, her bosom rose and fellexcitedly. Could he tell her that this seemingly fortunate accidentwas merely the irony of fate--a mere cruel reminder of a formermisfortune? No, she could not believe it!
"It has made me happy, Henry," she said, while he still kept his eyesbent on the papers to conceal his perplexity, "it has made me veryhappy to think that I may not come to you empty-handed."
"Dear woman," he thought, "you shall not. If the note is not good, itshall be made good."
"Laura," he said aloud, "I am no lawyer, but Caxton shall look atthese to-day, and I shall be very much mistaken if they do not bringyou a considerable sum of money. Say nothing about them, however,until Caxton reports. He will be here to see me to-day and byto-morrow you shall have his opinion."
Miss Laura went away with a radiantly hopeful face, and as she andGraciella went down the street, the colonel noted that her step wasscarcely less springy than her niece's. It was worth the amount ofFetters's old note to make her happy; and since he meant to give herall that she might want, what better way than to do it by means ofthis bit of worthless paper? It would be a harmless deception, and itwould save the pride of three gentlewomen, with whom pride was not adisease, to poison and scorch and blister, but an inspiration tocourtesy, and kindness, and right living. Such a pride was worthcherishing even at a sacrifice, which was, after all, no sacrifice.
He had already sent word to Caxton of his accident, requesting him tocall at the house on other business. Caxton came in the afternoon, andwhen the matter concerning which he had come had been disposed of,Colonel French produced Fetters's note.
"Caxton," he said, "I wish to pay this note and let it seem to havecome from Fetters."
Caxton looked at the note.
"Why should you pay it?" he asked. "I mean," he added, noting a changein the colonel's expression, "why shouldn't Fetters pay it?"
"Because it is outlawed," he replied, "and we could hardly expect himto pay for anything he didn't have to pay. The statute of limitationsruns against it after fifteen years--and it's older than that, mucholder than that."
Caxton made a rapid mental calculation.
"That is the law in New York," he said, "but here the statute doesn'tbegin to run for twenty years. The twenty years for which this notewas given expires to-day."
"Then it is good?" demanded the colonel, looking at his watch.
"It is good," said Caxton, "provided there is no defence to it exceptthe statute, and provided I can file a petition on it in the countyclerk's office by four o'clock, the time at which the office closes.It is now twenty minutes of four."
"Can you make it?"
"I'll try."
Caxton, since his acquaintance with Colonel French, had learnedsomething more about the value of half an hour than he had ever beforeappreciated, and here was an opportunity to test his knowledge. Heliterally ran the quarter of a mile that lay between the colonel'sresidence and the court house, to the open-eyed astonishment of thosewhom he passed, some of whom wondered whether he were crazy, andothers whether he had committed a crime. He dashed into the clerk'soffice, seized a pen, and the first piece of paper handy, and began towrite a petition. The clerk had stepped into the hall, and when hecame leisurely in at three minutes to four, Caxton discovered that hehad written his petition on the back of a blank marriage license. Hefolded it, ran his pen through the printed matter, endorsed it,"Estate of Treadwell _vs._ Fetters," signed it with the name of EllenTreadwell, as executrix, by himself as her attorney, swore to itbefore the clerk, and handed it to that official, who raised hiseyebrows as soon as he saw the endorsement.
"Now, Mr. Munroe," said Caxton, "if you'll enter that on the docket,now, as of to-day, I'll be obliged to you. I'd rather have thetransaction all finished up while I wait. Your fee needn't wait thetermination of the suit. I'll pay it now and take a receipt for it."
The clerk whistled to himself as he read the petition in order to makethe entry.
"That's an old-timer," he said. "It'll make the old man cuss."
"Yes," said Caxton. "Do me a favour, and don't say anything about itfor a day or two. I don't think the suit will ever come to trial."
The Colonel's Dream Page 30