"I have not
chosen to inquire whether my uncle could not have found a better
lawyer to act as executor."

"You are impudent, young man!" exclaimed Solomon Brief, his face
being as red for the moment as his hair.

"We have neither of us been overcivil," said Ben. "Suppose we come
back to business."

"Come now, you're a cool one."

"Perhaps I am. I have always understood that coolness is desirable
in business. May I inquire of what disease my uncle died?"

"It would serve you right if I declined to answer your questions after
your impudence to me. However, I will overlook it this time. Your
uncle committed suicide."

"Good gracious!" ejaculated Ben, who was quite unprepared for this
announcement. "How did he do it?"

"He drowned himself."

"What could possibly have driven him to it?"

"Of that we are ignorant. He left a letter at his lodgings, directing
me to open and carry out the provisions of his will, which he had
deposited with me."

"May I ask what were the provisions of his will?"

"You seem to be curious."

"I have a right to be. My aunt and myself are among his nearest
relations, if not the nearest. We had a right to suppose that we
might be remembered in his will."

"You were not."

"You can understand that we wish, at all events, to know the contents
of the will. We should have been apprised of his death sooner."

As a lawyer Mr. Brief understood that Ben was in the right, and he
produced a copy of the will.

The will was brief. The entire estate of the deceased was left to John
Tremlett with this provision, that for the first year only the income
should be paid to him; afterward he was to come into full possession.

"It seems regular," said Ben.

"Of course it is regular. I helped him make the will."

"Who is Mr. Tremlett? I never heard of him."

"A second or third cousin. He was a sort of adopted son of Mr. Baldwin."

Just here the inner door opened by the clerk, who announced, "Mr.
Tremlett, sir."

Chapter XXXV

John Tremlett

John Tremlett was a dark-complexioned young man, rather above
the middle height. He was by no means handsome; but plain faces
are often attractive, and this young man's was not. His eyes were
bloodshot, and even Ben's inexperienced glance could detect the
marks of dissipation. He was expensively dressed and looked like
one who made a business of spending money.

"How are you, Brief?" he said carelessly, throwing himself into