Ralph Dewey. That gentleman was on the ground, moving about with a
self-sufficient air, and giving his orders in a tone of authority
that most of the work people felt to be offensive.
The antiquated furniture in the Allen House, rich though it was in
style and finish, would not suit our prospective millionaire, and it
was all sent to auction. From the auctioneers, it was scattered
among the town's people, who obtained some rare bargains. An old
French secretary came into my possession, at the cost of ten
dollars--the original owner could not have paid less than a hundred.
It was curiously inlaid with satin wood, and rich in quaint
carvings. There seemed to be no end to the discoveries I was
continually making among its intricate series of drawers, pigeon
holes, slides, and hidden receptacles. But some one had preceded me
in the examination, and had removed all the papers and documents it
contained. It flashed across my mind, as I explored the mazes of
this old piece of furniture, that it might contain, in some secret
drawer, another will. This thought caused the blood to leap along my
veins, my cheeks to burn, and my hands to tremble.
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