fail to recognize the child himself. Such an errand as you propose
would be little better than useless."

Sharpman paused.

"Well, what's your plan?" repeated Craft, impatiently.

The lawyer assumed a still more confidential attitude.

"Listen! Burnham died rich. His wealth will mount well up into the
hundreds of thousands. He leaves a widow and one daughter, a little
girl. This boy, if he is really Burnham's son, is entitled to one
third of the personal property absolutely, to one third of the real
estate at once, and to one fourth of the remainder at his mother's
death. Do you understand?" Old Simon nodded. This was worth listening
to. He began to think that this shrewd lawyer was going to put him
in the way of making a fortune after all. Sharpman continued: "Now,
the boy is a minor. He must have a guardian. The mother would be the
guardian preferred by law; but if, for any reason, she should fail
to recognize the boy as her son, some one else must be appointed. It
will be the duty of the guardian to establish his ward's identity in
case it should be disputed, to sue for his portion of the estate, if
necessary, and to receive and care for it till the boy reaches his
majority. The usual guardian's commission is five per cent, retainable
out of the funds of the estate. Do you see how the management of such
an estate would be a fortune to a guardian, acting within the strict
letter of the law?"

Craft nodded again, but this time with eagerness and excitement. He
saw that a scheme was being opened up to him that outrivalled in