It
didna look even respectable, I remember, when we met him the other
day, careering over the country for all the world like one of those
crazy Mexicans. And yet he seemed steady and sensible enough when
he didna let his schemes of 'improvements' run away with him like
yon furious beastie. Eh well, puir man--it was a sudden ending!
And his family--eh?"
"I don't think he has one--at least here," said Raymond. "You
can't always tell in California. I believe he was a widower."
"Ay, man, but the heirs; there must be considerable property?" said
Buchanan, impatiently.
"Oh, the heirs. If he's made no will, which doesn't look like so
prudent and practical a man as he was--the heirs will probably crop
up some day."
"PROBABLY! crop up some day," repeated Buchanan, aghast.
"Yes. You must remember that WE don't take heirs quite as much
into account as you do in the old country. The loss of the MAN,
and how to replace HIM, is much more to us than the disposal of his
property. Now, Doctor West was a power far beyond his actual
possessions--and we will know very soon how much those were
dependent upon him."
"What do you mean?" asked Buchanan, anxiously.
"I mean that five minutes after the news of the Doctor's death was
confirmed, your friend Mr. Stanton sent a messenger with a despatch
to the nearest telegraphic office, and that he himself drove over
to catch Aladdin before the news could reach him."
Buchanan looked uneasy; so did one or two of the native
Californians who composed the group, and who had been listening
attentively.
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