"If he has read the will, it may lead to dangerous suspicions." "He would give it to your cousin, Florence, would he not?" "Perhaps so. Bolton, you must get the boy back, and take the will from him, if you can." "I will do my best; but you must remember that Dodger is no longer a small kid. He is a boy of eighteen, strong and well grown. He wouldn't be easy to manage. Besides, as long as he doesn't know that he has any interest in the will, his holding it won't do any harm. Is the old gentleman likely to live long?" "I don't know. I sometimes hope---- Pshaw! why should I play the hypocrite when speaking to you? Surely it is no sin to wish him better off, since he can't enjoy life!" "He might if Florence and his son were restored to him." "What do you mean, Bolton?" asked Curtis, suspiciously. "What could I mean? It merely occurred to me," said Bolton, innocently. "You say he is quiet, thinkin' the girl will come around?" "Yes." "Suppose time passes, and she doesn't? Won't he try to find her? As she is in the city, that won't be hard." "I shall represent that she has left the city." "For any particular point?" "No, that is not necessary." "And then?" "If he worries himself into the grave, so much the better for me." "There is no halfway about you, Mr. Curtis Waring." "Why should there be? Listen, Bolton; I have set my all on this cast. I am now thirty-six, and still I am dependent upon my uncle's bounty. I am in debt, and some of my creditors are disposed to trouble me. My uncle is worth--I don't know how much, but I think half a million. What does he get out of it? Food and clothes, but not happiness. If it were mine, all the avenues of enjoyment would be open to me. That estate I must have." "Suppose you get it, what is there for me?" asked Bolton.