He helped the
boy salvage something from the wreck of the LeFleur fortunes in France
to start anew in a decent profession under tolerable surroundings, when
others of his kind died miserably as beggars on the mud flats. Twice
before have we been forced to be the bearers of ill news, but--" he
shrugged, "that was in the past. This lies in the future."
"What does?" asked Ricky.
"It is such a tangle," he said, running his hand through his short,
gray-streaked hair. "A tangle such as lawyers are supposed to delight
in. But they don't, I assure you that they don't, Miss Ralestone. Not if
they have their client's interest at heart. You know, of course, of the
missing Ralestone--Roderick?"
Ricky and Val both nodded. Mr. LeFleur spread out his plump hands in a
queer little gesture as if he were pushing something away. "This whole
unfortunate business begins with him. As far as we know today, he and
his brother were co-owners of Pirate's Haven. When young Roderick
disappeared, he was still part owner. Although he was presumed dead, he
was never lawfully declared so. Pirate's Haven was simply assumed to be
the property of your branch of the family."
"Our branch of the family?" Val echoed him. "Do you mean that some
descendant of Roderick has appeared to put in a claim?"
"That is the problem. Three days ago a man came to my office. He said
that he is the direct descendant of Roderick Ralestone and that he can
produce proof of that fact.
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