The Mine Master's Heir OR THE REAL JOHN SMITH.

Thames Star, Volume XLVII, Issue 14768, 14 March 1914, Page 3

The Mine Master's Heir OR THE REAL JOHN SMITH.

(All Rights Reserve*.)f

By HEDLBT RICHARDS, Author of "Out of Darkness," "A ; Day of Reckoning," Etc.

PART 12

"It cannot be explained, and it le Jack's writing. lam so absolutely certain that I sent a line to Coates, telling him I should be there this afternoon to give instructions about my will, and John Smith will be my heir." "Father, wait until you hare spoken to Jack. lam sure he is good and true." "Good and true ? He is a scoundrel. Child, I know, how a decent working man regards such a man, and the man who takes my place shall not spend my money I have worked for in profligacy. I wish 1 hadn't had to speak so plainly, but I want you to know the character of the man I ara turning from the house." . "You are going to forbid him re-, turning to Witton House ?" she said. "I cannot do that, as I haven't his address ; but when he returns I shall have something to say. By the way, do you know his address ?" "No. He went to meet a friend in London—a man who had returned unexpectedly from abroad. He said he wasn't sure where he. should stay." "That's what he told you. And now I have said what I had to say, and it's time I was going. Ah, there's the trap !" he said, as they heard a conveyance stop at the gate. " Are you going to Middleham now ?" she asked. "Yes. I have decided to make my .will at once." "Father, don't do it. I'm siure you'll regret it. Wait till Jack comes home," she said, in a tone ol entreaty. Her earnestness vexed him. He began to fear that she loved Jack, and it made him more determined. "You need not say any more, Betty. My mind is made up ;" and he left the room, crossing the hall quickly. She followed him to the door and watched him get into the dog-cart and take the reins from the groom, and as he drove off she thought : "I hope the horse will cast a shoe, or some little accident happen that will prevent him reaching Middleham to-day. Jack said he shouldn't be long, and to-morrow or even today he might return." ****** "I've come to make my will," said as he shook hands with jfche lawyer. "Without really knowing which man is your sister's son !" replied Mr. Coates, in a questioning tone, wondering if his client had obtained some information of which he was ignorant. ''•'Yes." The answer was quick and decided. Without another word the lawyer took a sheet of paper. "I suppose Mr. Jack is the fortunate man ?" he said as he dipped his pen in the ink. The words roused Thompson's slumbering ire. "Not a penny of my money shall tie have. I leave fifty thousand pounds to Betty, but there must be a clause to the effect that if she marries Jack she hasn't a penny. Then there's a list of legacies to the 3ervants and a few of the principal men at the mine and quarry. All the rest goes to Jofan Smith." Mr. Coates laid down his pen and looked at his client in amazement. "This is a strange will, Mr. Thompson," he said. • Thompson nodded. "I've a good reason for what I'm doing. It's not a nice story, but t'll tell you ;" and he repeated what Thwaites had told him, and the evidence of the letter. The lawyer listened attentively. "It doesn't look as though there was much reason to doubt Mr. Jack's guilt, but I don't believe he is the man to do a thing of that kind, and my advice is don't act hastily." "You're judging from his face and manner, but the evidence of his own letter condemns him, and he shall, never have a penny of my money." i"Why not leave all to your daughter ?" said Coatea. "Why should I? A girl cannot manage things; she would be overwhelmed with the responsibility." "Not with good advisers, and Miss Betty is clever. Candidly, Mr. Thompson, I don't like Mr. John Smitk.and I should be sorry to kno^v that when you go he will take your place. The man who does so will have great influence for good or evil." John Thompson leaned forward, and spoke decidedly : » "Coates, I don't want advice. I'd made up my mind when I came here. This is a list of the people who are to have legacies ;. the amount follows the name. Now I want you to make a draft =of the will while I'm here. You needn't, bother about a lot of legal phraseology—but I want to know you've got it right." The lawyer drew a piece of parch- ' ment to him and began writing. Nowsand again he glanced at the papei ''with the list of legacies. He was a I quick writer, and he followed hi? client's. wish to write it as simplj as possible. . . At last he laid down his pen ' and began reading aloud what he hac written. "That will do," said Thompson. Mr. Cpaies glanced at him ; then hi « '

>aid : "Mr. Thompson, have you - that if Miss Betty cares for Jack this will means spoiling life or making her penniless ?" (To be Continued.) 1672. "I know what I'm doing. I'm making it almost impossible for her to marry him. Httr won't want her when he knows she's a pauper ;" and Thompson spake bitterly. "Very well. I will have this copled, and let you know when it is ready to be signed." His client rose, then he looked lown at the sheet of paper on the table. . "I" sign that. One never knows what may happen, and I'm not goin;; to chance Betty getting my money and marrying that scamp. When you've copied it and put all the big phrases in that you lawyers like, this can be destroyed." "Very well. «I'll send, for two of my clerks to witness it," he said as he touched the bell. Ten minutes later Thompson left the office, and was soon driving homewards. He didn't feel quite sc well satisfied with his afternoon^ work as he had expected. Somshovs Jack's face, with the honest, merry, blue eyes, would keep obtruding itself.

"Was it possible there had been fi mistake ? But his own letter con-) demned him. Perhaps he had been a little hasty in making that will, but he could alter it if he saw reason to change his opinion. H wasn't like a death-bed will. There was plenty of time." Buried in his own thoughts, he had not noticed the noise made by a motor coming towards them. If he bad it wouldn't have disturbed him,, as he was on the right side of thf| read ; then as the horse and trap turned a corner,- the motor turned, too, suddenly, catching the wheel ol the trap, and both Thompson and the groom were shot out. " WhateA'er have I done?" eS> claimed a lady who was cowering down in the car, while her companion sprang out. '''You'll be lucky if you haven't Killed any one.'LUe said, as he saw the groom—w%o had fallen sideways on the grassy bank —was getting on his feet. "Go to your horse ; I'll see to your master," said the young fellow, going to where John Thompson' lay, white and motionless. "Is he dead ?" asked the lady, in a terrified tone. "I don't think so ; but it's a bad jase." Then he went to the groom, asking his master's name. "Mr. Thompson, of Witton House, sir." At that moment a couple of laoourers came out of the field. "We'll take him home in the cap; ir'ou can follow," said the young nan. Then, with the help of the labour-} jrs, Thompson was lifted into the ;ar, the lady taking her place beside lim and supporting the motionless form. ' - Ten minutes later the car stgpjtf at the gate of Witton House' aHi the young man got out, hurriefly jxplaining to Giles what had happen3d. While he was talking, Betty, who had heard the car stop, and> thought it was Jim Gelder. camp forward in time to hear the word* "You'd better tell his wife wh*. has happened." "Bless you, there's only Miss \ Betty, sir, and how I'm to tell" "What is it, Giles ?" The butler turned as thoqghyifc hAA oeen shot, and the stronger sl;ep§J| into the hall. "There's been on accident. I'm sorry to say the car caused it."« "My father ! Is he killed ?" she asked, clasping her hands tightly. "My God, I hope not ;but it's a bad accident. , He had better be brought in and a doctor" "Giles, send a couple of footmen to help in moving yo;;r master, and tell the housekeeper to get his bed ready," said Dr. Barnes, in a tone of quiet authority. "Oh, doctor, I am so thankful to see you !" Betty exclaimed. '"I'm glad I happened to be passing. I saw there was something wrong. You must go and help get the bed ready, Miss Betty," he said; and she flew upstairs to her father's room. Ten minutes later she came slowly downstairs. The doctor had sent her away while he examined her father. "I waited to see you, Miss Thompson," said the young man who had brought her father home. "This is: my card, if you want me," he saj&J t slowly. '■ "Were you driving ?" she asked, in a low tone. "No ; I foolishly let my cousin. Lady Mary Sheen, drive ; but I understood she knew how. I shall never forgive myself," he said. - She tried to speak calmly: "It was an accident, but it's very I terrible ;" and her voice shook. He turned away to hide his emotion. : " You know where to find me ;" and hastening from the bouse, he stepped into the car. . "I don't think I'll ever drive again," said the woman. "I know you'll never drive my car again. I only hope you won't bp tried for manslaughter," he said. "You're a brute, Percy!" He didn?t reply; he was thinking of the misery in Betty's face. Then he turned, to see a tall young, man snter the gate and pass into the porch of Witton Houre^ '"I wonder if "Tie's her brother ?" he thought as he drove away. A Betty stood quite still alter h$ had gone. She didn!t blame him! It was a woman/s carelessness, but' it was very terrible. Then she glan' ced at the card, and read : " Lor* Houston, Houston Castle." So he was the new T a stranger in th' «•■• - ■ V (To> he oontsnued).