ng up a dull little street which ended in a _cul
de sac_, he spied a dingy archway, offering itself as an approach to a
flight of equally dingy stairs. Here a brass plate, winking at the
passer-by, stated that "Rowden and Owlett, Solicitors," would be found
on the first floor. Helmsley paused, considering a moment--then, making
up his mind that "Rowden and Owlett" would suit his purpose as well as
any other equally unknown firm, he slowly climbed the steep and unwashed
stair. Opening the first door at the top of the flight, he saw a small
boy leaning both arms across a large desk, and watching the gyrations of
two white mice in a revolving cage.

"Hullo!" said the boy sharply, "what d' ye want?"

"I want to see Mr. Rowden or Mr. Owlett," he replied.

"Right y' are!" and the boy promptly seized the cage containing the
white mice and hid it in a cupboard. "You're our first caller to-day.
Mr. Rowden's gone to Dawlish,--but Mr. Owlett's in. Wait a minute."

Helmsley obeyed, sitting down in a chair near the door, and smiling to
himself at the evidences of slack business which the offices of Messrs.
Rowden and Owlett presented. In about five minutes the boy returned, and
gave him a confidential nod.

"You can go in now," he said; "Mr. Owlett was taking his after-dinner
snooze, but he's jumped up at once, and he's washed his hands and face,
so he's quite ready for business. This way, please!"

He beckoned with a rather dirty finger, and Helmsley followed him into a
small apartment where Mr. Owlett, a comfortably stout, middle-aged
gentleman, sat at a large bureau covered with papers, pretending to
read. He looked up as his hoped-for client entered, and flushed redly in
the face with suppressed vexation as he saw that it was only a working
man after all--"Some fellow wanting a debt collected," he decided,
pushing away his papers with a rather irritated movement. However, in
times when legal work was so scarce, it did not serve any good purpose
to show anger, so, smoothing his ruffled brow, he forced a reluctantly
condescending smile, as his office-boy, having ushered in the visitor,
left the room.

"Good afternoon, my man!" he said, with a patronising air. "What can I
do for you?"

"Well, not so very much, sir," and Helmsley took off his hat
deferentially, standing in an attitude of humility. "It's only a matter
of making my Will,--I've written it out myself, and if you would be so
good as to see whether it is all in o