I have a property."

"This is what I want, Theodore," I said; and I drew the will, unfolded,
from between his hands. As I did so his eyes fell upon the
superscription, "Last Will and Testament, March. F.S." He flushed an
extraordinary crimson. Our eyes met. Somehow--I don't know how or why,
or for that matter why not--I burst into a violent peal of laughter.
Theodore stood staring, with two hot, bitter tears in his eyes.

"Of course you think I came to ferret out that thing," he said.

I shrugged my shoulders--those of my body only. I confess, morally, I
was on my knees with contrition, but there was a fascination in it--a
fatality. I remembered that in the hurry of my movements the other
evening I had slipped the will simply into one of the outer drawers of
the cabinet, among Theodore's own papers. "Mr. Sloane sent me for it," I
remarked.

"Very good; I am glad to hear he's well enough to think of such things."

"He means to destroy it."

"I hope, then, he has another made."

"Mentally, I suppose he has."

"Unfortunately, his weakness isn't mental--or exclusively so."

"Oh, he will live to make a dozen more," I said. "Do you know the
purport of this one?"

Theodore's color, by this time, had died away into plain white. He shook
his head. The doggedness of the movement provoked me, and I wished to
arouse his curiosity. "I have his commission to destroy it."

Theodore smiled very grandly. "It's not a task I envy you," he said.

"I should think not--especially if you knew the import of the will." He
stood with folded arms, regarding me with his cold, detached eyes. I
couldn't stand it. "Come, it's your property! You are sole legatee. I
give it up to you." And I thrust the paper into his hand.

He received it mechanically; but after a pause, bethinking himself, he
unfolded it and cast his eyes over the contents. Then he slowly smoothed
it together and held it a moment with a tremulous hand. "You say that
Mr. Sloane directed you to destroy it?" he finally inquired.

"I say so."

"And that you know the contents?"

"Exactly."

"And that you were about to do what he asked you?"

"On the contrary, I declined."

Theodore fixed his eyes for a moment on the superscription and then
raised them again to my face. "Thank you, Max," he said. "You have left
me a real satisfaction." He tore the sheet across and threw the bits
into the fire. We stood watching them burn. "Now he can make another,"
said Theodore.