osely corked, he pointed to it.

'If you don't mind, Scaw. I'm a bit upset, a bit flurried. Got another
wine-glass?'

From the cupboard Scawthorne produced one and bade the visitor help
himself. His face beg auto express curiosity. Joseph tilted the draught
down his throat and showed satisfaction.

'That does me good. I've had a troublesome day. It ain't often my
feelings are tried.'

'Well, what is it?'

'My boy, we are all mortal. I dare say you've heard that observation
before; can you apply it to any particular case?'

Scawthorne was startled; he delayed a moment before speaking.

'You don't mean to say--'

'Exactly. Died a couple of hours ago, after lying insensible all day,
poor old man! I've just written your people a formal announcement. Now,
what do you think of that? If you don't mind, old fellow.'

He filled himself another glass, and tilted it off as before.
Scawthorne had dropped his eyes to the ground, and stood in meditation.

'Now what about the will?' pursued Joseph.

'You haven't looked for it?' questioned his friend with an odd look.

'Thought it more decent to wait a few hours. The girl was about, you
see, and what's more, my wife was. But have you heard anything since I
saw you?'

'Why, yes. A trifle.'

'Out with it! What are you grinning about? Don't keep me on hot coals.'

'Well, it's amusing, and that's the fact. Take another glass of sherry;
you'll need support.'

'Oh, I'm prepared for the worst. He's cut me out altogether, eh? That
comes of me meddling with the girl's affairs--damnation! When there
wasn't the least need, either.'

'A bad job. The fact is, Percival had a letter from him at midday
yesterday. The senior had left the office; young Percival opened the
letter, and spoke to me about it. Now, prepare yourself. The letter
said that he had destroyed his former will, and would come to the
office on Monday--that's _to-marrow_--to give instructions for a new
one.'

Joseph stood and stared.

'To-morrow? Why, then, there's _no will at all_?'

'An admirable deduction. I congratulate you on your logic.'

Snowdon flung up his arms wildly, then began to leap about the room.

'Try another glass,' said Scawthorne. 'There's still a bottle in the
cupboard; don't be afraid.'

'And you mean to tell me it's all mine?'

'The wine? You're very welcome.'

'Wine be damned! The money, my boy, the money! Scawthorne, I'm not a
mean chap. As sure as you and me stand here, you sh