d you'll learn all about
it. Bonner's clerk will be there and will bring it with him. Everything
is going to be done _comme il faut_, as the French say."

"I ought to have known of this," began Mr. Gladman.

"Glad to find you taking so much interest in the old chap," said Clodd.
"Pity he's dead and can't thank you."

"I warn you," shouted old Gladman, whose voice was rising to a scream,
"he was a helpless imbecile, incapable of acting for himself! If any
undue influence--"

"See you on Friday," broke in Clodd, who was busy.

Friday's ceremony was not a sociable affair. Mrs. Gladman spoke
occasionally in a shrill whisper to Mr. Gladman, who replied with grunts.
Both employed the remainder of their time in scowling at Clodd. Mr.
Pincer, a stout, heavy gentleman connected with the House of Commons,
maintained a ministerial reserve. The undertaker's foreman expressed
himself as thankful when it was over. He criticised it as the humpiest
funeral he had ever known; for a time he had serious thoughts of changing
his profession.

The solicitor's clerk was waiting for the party on its return from Kensal
Green. Clodd again offered hospitality. Mr. Pincer this time allowed
himself a glass of weak whisky-and-water, and sipped it with an air of
doing so without prejudice. The clerk had one a little stronger, Mrs.
Gladman, dispensing with consultation, declined shrilly for self and
partner. Clodd, explaining that he always followed legal precedent,
mixed himself one also and drank "To our next happy meeting." Then the
clerk read.

It was a short and simple will, dated the previous August. It appeared
that the old gentleman, unknown to his relatives, had died possessed of
shares in a silver mine, once despaired of, now prospering. Taking them
at present value, they would produce a sum well over two thousand pounds.
The old gentleman had bequeathed five hundred pounds to his brother-in-
law, Mr. Gladman; five hundred pounds to his only other living relative,
his first cousin, Mr. Pincer; the residue to his friend, William Clodd,
as a return for the many kindnesses that gentleman had shown him.

Mr. Gladman rose, more amused than angry.

"And you think you are going to pocket that one thousand to twelve
hundred pounds. You really do?" he asked Mr. Clodd, who, with legs
stretched out before him, sat with his hands deep in his trousers
pockets.

"That's the idea," admitted Mr. Clodd.

Mr. Gladman laughed, but