ad) an Englishman.

He took after his mother in looks. He was moderately tall and thin and
might have been eight and thirty. He had straight black hair and beard
and moustache, to match, the former being small and well cut, not the
bushy kind. His handsome dark eyes were quite those of a foreigner and
his teeth were beautifully white. He was particularly well dressed and
even to his boots.

Very different indeed was Mr. Spriggs. A thin wiry little man about 5
feet 2 inches, with thin sandy coloured hair (a trifle bald), twinkly
little blue eyes, a very pink face and carroty coloured moustache. He
was attired in a rough tweed suit with knickaboccers, a turn down
collar, very untidily put on, thick grey stockings, clumping boots, a
green tie, and a dear stalker cap drawn well on to his head.

"Well the first thing to be done" said Mr. Spriggs in jerky tones "is to
open the chest, and I being the solicitor will proceed to do it," and he
stalked accross the room with a very high and mighty air and made a
great commotion with the keys.

The chest being opened the contents were carefully examined. A blue
envelope was first opened and contained the following information.

"This is to say that I, Cyril Sheene leave all my money, which is all in
bank notes to my intended Helen Winston; it is not very much and does
not exceed L150 but still I hope it will do as I can't afford any more.
Dated August 11th."

This was all written in violet coloured ink by Cyril himself; but at the
bottom of the paper a few lines were hastily scrawled in pencil.

"I hereby add that all my share of the money I stole from Mr. John
Winston is in the black leather bag at the back of the chest. Helen will
recognise the bag. Not a farthing has been spent and it is all to go to
Helen. Dated October 14.

"That was written on the day of Mr. Sheene's departure announced Mr.
Spriggs as he replaced the paper in its envelope, and this is the bag I
suppose," he added dragging at a black leather bundle in a remote corner
of the chest.

The bag it certainly was and on being opened L100 in ready gold tumbled
on to the desk, and with it a slip of paper on which the reader will
remember John Winston had written, "all this gold is bequeathed to my
daughter Helen on the day when I shall be called upon to die," and was
sealed with the writer's prifate seal.

Nothing else of great importance appeared except a bundle of white
manuscript carefully tied up and sea