A family council was held; M. le Général was given full power of
attorney to act for all the heirs; and each having contributed an
insignificant sum toward his necessary expenses, they waved him a
tremulous good-by as he stood on the upper deck of the steamer, his silk
hat in one hand and his gold-headed cane in the other.

"He will get it, if any one can!" cried the blacksmith enthusiastically.

"It is as good as ours already!" echoed Rozier.

"My friends," Madame Lapierre assured them, "a General of the armies of
Spain and a Chevalier of the Order of Jiminez would die rather than fail
in his mission. Besides," she added, her French blood asserting itself,
"he is to get nineteen per cent. of the inheritance!"

As long as the steamer remained in sight the General waved
encouragingly, his hat raised toward Heaven.

"_Mais_," says Lapierre, with another shrug as he lights his pipe, "even
you would have believed him. _Vraiment_! He would have deceived the
devil himself!"

Up the road the wain comes creaking back again. A crow flaps across the
vineyard, laughing scornfully at good M. Lapierre, and you yourself
wonder if such a thing could have been possible.

On a rainy afternoon in March, 1905, there entered the writer's office
in the Criminal Courts Building, New York City, a ruddy, stoutly-built
man, dressed in homespun garments, accompanied by an attractive and
vivacious little woman, who, while unable to speak a single word of