DEAD MEN'S SHOES
A dozen or more grim-faced men and women were gathered in the lawyer's
office when Tobias Bassett entered. He had seen them all at the church
and grave, but there had been no opportunity to greet personally the
Pottses, the Bassetts and the Dawsons, names which for the most part
made up the roster of Captain Jethro's immediate family.
The lightkeeper proceeded to speak to each in turn. He was of no grim
disposition himself, and was sport enough in any case to shake hands
with his deadliest enemy before the battle.
His smile and cheerful word were for all, even for Icivilla Potts who
was, of all the dead captain's relatives, the one who considered that
Tobias's interest in the will should be infinitesimal. She had lived
next door to Captain Jethro's little box of a house for thirty years,
and had kept a sharp and hungry eye upon him and his affairs during all
of that time.
"Yes," she was saying, "he depended upon me for everything. If Cap'n
Jethro had been my own father I could have taken no more pains with
him."
"I don't doubt it! I don't doubt it!" put in Mrs. Andrew Dawson, as
sharp as any sparrow. "Cap'n Jethro told me that you'd interfered with
everything you could, the whole endurin' time. He said, the Cap'n did,
that you'd change the sun and moon, let alone the stars, in their
courses, if so be you could!"
"Haw! Haw!" chortled Isaac Bassett, a bewhiskered old man whose bleary
eyes and empurpled nose told the tale of much secret tippling. "Le's
speak right out in meetin' and tell all we know. Who'll be the first of
you women to tell how ye fished ter get the old Cap'n ter come and live
with ye?"
"Why, Ike Bassett! How you talk!" was the chorus of denial.
"'Tis so," chuckled Isaac. "Jethro told me once that purt' nigh every
woman that was any kin to him--and some that warn't--had offered to make
a home for him. Come to think of it, though," he added, turning a
bleary eye on Tobias, "there was one he said that hadn't bothered him
none that-a-way. How is your sister Heppy, Tobe?"
"Wal, she ain't no younger," said the lightkeeper, cheerfully.
"Otherwise she is spry."
Judge Waddams entered at this point, before the tide of family acrimony
could rise higher. He was a soft-stepping, palm-rubbing man, with a
bald crown and iron-grey burnsides. His clean-lipped mouth was a slit
no wider than the opening of his hip pocket. Yet he was not an
unsympathetic man, as his mild brown eyes betrayed.
"Well, friends, we are gathered here on an occasion that I had hoped
might be put off for a score of years yet. But Cap'n Jethro broke up
fast during the past year, as such men as he often do. When their old
hulks strike the rocks of age they go to pieces quickly.
"But Cap'n Jethro took time by the forelock and made all his property
arrangements in good season. He converted everything into cash--even to
the house he lived in to the last--and to settle his estate is going to
be a very easy matter.
"Are we all here?" proceeded Judge Waddams, looking slowly about the
room. His gaze fastened upon Tobias. "I don't see your sister, Miss
Heppy, Mr. Bassett?"
"You'll have to look twice at me, then, Judge," chuckled the
lightkeeper. "She couldn't make it to come, nohow."
Judge Waddams gravely nodded, unlocked a drawer in his table, and drew
forth a folded document of portentous appearance. There was
considerable stiffening in the chairs and a general clearing of throats.
The Judge adjusted his eyeglasses.
"Captain Jethro Potts entrusted me with the drawing of this will, and it
was sealed in my presence, and in that of two witnesses who have
absolutely no interest in the provisions of the instrument," he said
officially. "I will now read it."
The introduction and opening paragraphs held the breathless attention of
his audience. There followed itemized gifts of personal property, such
as the ancient furnishings of Captain Potts's little home--keepsakes
that might or might not satisfy a sentimental feeling in the hearts of
the recipients.
Icivilla Potts preened herself over the fact that the walnut highboy
which had been the chief piece of furniture in Captain Jethro's parlor
had been left to her by the maker of the will. Then:
"'Item: One certain two-gallon jug containing Jamaica rum, to my
mother's second cousin, Isaac Bassett--that remaining portion as he
shall not have already drunk at the unsealing of this instrument.'"
"Heh? By mighty! An' I drunk the last drop o' that rum just before we
took him to the church to-day," exploded Isaac, more in sorrow than in
anger. "Wal, I always did say that you couldn't get the best of Cap'n
Jethro Potts, dead or alive--an' this proves it!"
"Sarves ye right," declared Mrs. Andrew Dawson, as the lawyer frowned
down Isaac's interruption.
All those present--and some others--had been named for legacies of
personal property, saving Tobias. The other relatives of the dead man
began to gaze curiously upon the lightkeeper as the list was
concluded--Icivilla with scorn.
The lawyer read gravely the next partition of the will. It was to the
effect that the testator, having seen clearly that his relatives
hereinbefore named were covetous of his money, and would little consider
the sentimental value of the above legacies, bequeathed to each person
the sum of one dollar to be paid out of his estate by the administrator,
Edward Waddams.
This stunning statement smote dumb every listener save Isaac Bassett.
He burst into a raucous "Haw! haw!" and slapped his knee as he weaved
back and forth in his chair.
"By mighty!" he exploded, "I ain't the only one old Jethro fooled. Haw!
Haw!"
The high squeal of Andrew Dawson, who occasionally asserted himself in
spite of his wife, rose above the general murmur of disappointment and
anger:
"I wanter know, then, what's to become of all Jethro's money! I wanter
know _that_!"
"If you folks will keep quiet long enough for me to do so, I will read
the remainder of the instrument," Judge Waddams said sharply.
They subsided. But there were few but red and wrathful faces in the
company. Icivilla Potts was almost bursting with rage. Judge Waddams
continued.
The residue of the estate, which would amount, after all bills were
settled and fees paid, to about six thousand dollars, was to be divided
equally between Hephzibah Bassett and Tobias Bassett, of Twin Rocks
Light, the two relatives of all Captain Jethro Potts's clan, as the will
stated, who had never made him feel that they were covetous of his money
or wished him out of the way that they might get it.
"Oh, sugar!" murmured Tobias, actually disturbed. "Too bad Cap'n Jethro
felt that way about it. I don't believe _all_ of them wished him dead."
Judge Waddams looked scornfully over the company now expressing to each
other in no unmistakable terms their disappointment and chagrin, and
observed to the lightkeeper:
"There's a-many people's feet feel that itch for dead men's shoes,
Tobias. I'm glad you and Miss Heppy were favored by Cap'n Jethro. I
know of none of his family more deserving."
"Oh, sugar!" rejoined the lightkeeper, "I cal'late Cap'n Jethro didn't
much consider me and Heppy's deserts. It was to satisfy his own grudge
ag'in 'em that he done this. Still, we are as near to him in blood as
ary one of the others. And we didn't never cal'late on getting his
money, though I'm frank to say we hoped he'd give us some if he died
first.
"Wal, Judge, when you want Heppy and me to sign papers we'll meet you at
the Clinkerport Bank. This ain't no place for me just now. Icivilly
could purt' near tear me apart. I am going to escape while the escapin'
is good," Tobias concluded, chuckling.
He could not play the hypocrite by commiserating with the disappointed
crowd. Nor did he wish any of them to congratulate him when their
hearts were not at all attuned to such feeling.
"Least said, soonest mended," Tobias secretly observed. "Give 'em time
to trim their sails. But won't Heppy be purt' near surprised to death
over this? Oh, sugar!"
He was in no mood to discuss the surprising outcome of the funeral of
Captain Jethro Potts, even to the curious Clinkerport folks who knew of
the reason for his trip down the coast, and who saw him alight from the
up train that afternoon.
"Wal, how'd ye make out, Tobias?" asked Ben Durgin, the Clinkerport
station agent.
"Purt' tollerble," responded the lightkeeper cheerfully. "Though my
feet do ache some in these shoes."
"Did your Uncle Jethro leave much, Tobe?" asked a bolder spirit.
"Wal, as the feller said, he left the earth," chuckled Tobias.
"I say!" exclaimed Ezra Crouch, whose bump of inquisitiveness could only
be equaled by Amos Pickering, the mail carrier's, "didn't they read the
will, Tobias?"
"Oh, sugar! Yes. So they did," agreed the lightkeeper.
"Wal, then, who's to get his money?"
"Why--there wasn't nobody forgotten," Tobias assured him. "No, sir, not
a soul! There ain't no rel'tive of Cap'n Jethro' that can honestly say
he or she was forgotten in the will."
Nor was he more communicative when he chanced to meet Ralph Endicott
getting out of his roadster in front of the Clinkerport Inn.
"Wal, young feller!" exclaimed the lightkeeper, "what brings you over
here from Amperly? Ain't got your lady friend with ye, eh?"
"If you mean Lorna, I have _not_. She has gone to New York on a visit,
I understand. But Uncle Henry made me come over here and arrange for
one of Tadman's bungalows. He won't hear to our going anywhere else for
the summer."
"Which don't please you none, I can see," commented Tobias. "Which one
of them bungalows are you going to have?"
"I had to take the one right next to the Nicholet house," said the
disgruntled young man. "That was the only one left--it is so late in
the renting season. I was hoping to get Uncle Henry to agree to a
change for one summer, at least. But nothing doing!"
"I see," observed Tobias, grinning privately.
"Uncle Henry is all wrapped up in a new invention. He wants to be where
it is quiet. The goodness knows it's quiet enough at Clay Head."
"I cal'late. Come over to the light, Ralphie, and have a mess of
Heppy's fishballs."
"Well, I might drive you home just as well as not," the young fellow
agreed, smiling.
"You're a re'l bright boy, Ralphie, even if you can't appreciate Lorny
Nicholet."
"Now, stop that, Tobias Bassett!" exclaimed his young friend,
exasperated, "or I'll surely overturn you in the ditch," and he threw in
his clutch with a vicious jerk as the engine began to purr.