rician employed by the
year to care for my radio set and I leave all such things to him. You
are a lawyer, are you not?"

I told him I was.

"And you are chairman of the trustees of the Westcote Cemetery, are you
not?" he asked.

I told him I was that also. And I may say that the Westcote Cemetery
Association is one of the rightest and tightest little corporations in
existence. It has been in existence since 1808 and has been exceedingly
profitable to those fortunate enough to hold its stock. I inherited the
small block I own from my grandfather. Recently we trustees had bought
sixty additional acres adjoining the old cemetery and had added them to
it, and we were about ready to put the new lots on the market. At $300
apiece there promised to be a tremendous profit in the thing, for our
cemetery was a fashionable place to be buried in and the demand for the
lots in the new addition promised to be enormous.

* * * * *

"You have not known it," said Remington Solander in his slow drawl,
which had the effect of letting his words slide out of his mouth and
drip down his long chin like cold molasses, "but I have been making
inquiries about you, and I have been meaning to speak to you. I am
drawing up a new last will and testament, and I want you to draw up one
of the clauses for me without delay."

"Why, certainly, Mr. Solander," I said with increased pride. "I'll be
glad to be of service to you."

"I am choosing you for the work," Remington Solander said, "because you
know and love radio as I do, and because you are a trustee of the
cemetery association. Are you a religious man?"

"Well," I said, a little uneasily, "some. Some, but not much."

"No matter," said Mr. Solander, placing a hand on my arm. "I am. I have
always been. From my earliest youth my mind has been on serious things.
As a matter of fact, sir, I have compiled a manuscript collection of
religious quotations, hymns, sermons and uplifting thoughts which now
fill fourteen volumes, all in my own handwriting. Fortunately, I
inherited money, and this collection is my gift to the world."

"And a noble one, I'm sure," I said.

"Most noble," said Mr. Solander. "But, sir, I have not confined my
activities to the study chair. I have kept my eye on the progress of the
world. And it seems to me that radio, this new and wonderful invention,
is the greatest discovery of all ages and imperishable. But, sir, it is
being twisted to