"I bought her silence until fifteen years ago. Then she died, and now
Terry is convinced that he is the last representative of the Colby
family."

She laughed with excitement and beckoned him out of the room and into
another--Terry's room, farther down the hall. She pointed to a large
photograph of a solemn-faced man on the wall. "You see that?"

"Who is it?"

"I got it when I took Terry to Virginia last winter--to see the old
family estate and go over the ground of the historic Colbys."

She laughed again happily.

"Terry was wild with enthusiasm. He read everything he could lay his
hands on about the Colbys. Discovered the year they landed in Virginia;
how they fought in the Revolution; how they fought and died in the Civil
War. Oh, he knows every landmark in the history of 'his' family. Of
course, I encouraged him."

"I know," chuckled Vance. "Whenever he gets in a pinch, I've heard you
say: 'Terry, what should a Colby do?'"

"And," cut in Elizabeth, "you must admit that it has worked. There isn't
a prouder, gentler, cleaner-minded boy in the world than Terry. Not
blood. It's the blood of Jack Hollis. But it's what he thinks himself to
be that counts. And now, Vance, admit that your theory is exploded."

He shook his head.