II

Samuel Greer found somewhere near two pounds in silver in the small

canvas bag under the dead man's pillow. No more money, however,

rewarded his hasty search about the bedroom, and when Sinclair returned

Greer set off to carry the news to Paul Cater, the dead man's nephew.

The respectable Greer had considered well the matter of the will,

and saw his way, he fancied, at least to a few pounds by way

of compensation for his loss of employment and the ungrateful

forgetfulness of his late employer. The two sheets comprised, in fact,

not a simple will merely, but a will and a codicil, each on one of the

sheets, the codicil being a year or two more recent than the will.

Nobody apparently knew anything of these papers, and it struck Greer

that it was now in his power to prevent anybody learning, unless an

interested party were disposed to pay for the disclosure. That was

why he now took his way toward the establishment of Paul Cater, for

the will made Paul Cater not only sole executor, but practically sole

legatee. Wherefore Greer carefully separated the will from the codicil,

intending the will alone for sale to Paul Cater. Because, indeed, the

codicil very considerably modified it, and might form the subject of

independent commerce.

Paul Cater made a less miserly show than had been the wont of his

uncle. His house was in a street in Pimlico, the ground-floor front

room of which was made into an office, with a wire blind carrying his

name in gilt letters. Perhaps it was that Paul Cater carried his

covetousness to a greater refinement than his uncle had done, seeing

that a decent appearance is a commercial advantage by itself, bringing

a greater profit than miserly habits could save.

The man of general dealings was balancing his books when Greer arrived,

but at the announcement of his uncle's death he dropped everything. He

was not noticeably stricken with grief, unless a sudden seizure of his

hat and a roaring aloud for a cab might be considered as indications

of affliction; for in truth Paul Cater knew well that it was a case in

which much might depend on being first at Bermondsey Wall. The worthy

Greer had scarce got the news out before he found himself standing in

the street while Cater was giving directions to a cabman. "Here--you

come in too," said Cater, and Greer was bustled into the cab.

It was plainly a situation in which half-crowns should not be too

reluctantly parted with. So Paul Cater produced one and presented it.

Cater was a strong-faced man of fifty odd, with a tight-drawn mouth

that proclaimed everywhere a tight fist; so that the unaccustomed

passing over of a tip was a noticeably awkward and unspontaneous

performance, and Greer pocketed the money with little more

acknowledgment than a growl.

"Do you know where he put the will?" asked Paul Cater with a keen

glance.

"Will?" answered Greer, looking him blankly in the face--the gaze of

one eye passing over Cater's shoulder and that of the other seeming to

seek his boots. "Will? P'raps 'e never made one."

"Didn't he?"

"That 'ud mean, lawfully, as the property would come to you an' Mr.

Flint--'arves. Bein' all personal property. So I'd think." And Greer's

composite gaze blankly persisted.

"But how do you know whether he made a will or not?"

"'Ow do I know? Ah, well, p'raps I dunno. It's only fancy like. I

jist put it to you--that's all. It 'ud be divided atween the two of

you." Then, after a long pause, he added: "But lor! it 'ud be a pretty

fine thing for you if he did leave a will, and willed it all to you,

wouldn't it? Mighty fine thing! An' it 'ud be a mighty fine thing for

Mr. Flint if there was a will leaving it all to him, wouldn't it?

Pretty fine thing!"

Cater said nothing, but watched Greer's face sharply. Greer's face,

with its greasy features and its irresponsible squint, was as

expressive as a brick. They travelled some distance in silence. Then

Greer said musingly, "Ah, a will like that 'ud be a mighty fine thing!

What 'ud you be disposed to give for it now?"

"Give for it? What do you mean? If there's a will there's an end to it.

Why should I give anything for it?"

"Jist so--jist so," replied Greer, with a complacent wave of the hand.

"Why should you? No reason at all, unless you couldn't find it without

givin' something."

"See here, now," said Cater sharply, "let us understand this. Do you

mean that there is a will, and you know that it is hidden, and where it

is?"

Greer's squint remained impenetrable. "Hidden? Lor!--'ow should I know

if it was hidden? I was a-puttin' of a case to you."

"Because," Cater went on, disregarding the reply, "if that's the case,

the sooner you out with the information the better it'll be for you.

Because there are ways of making people give up information of that

sort for nothing."

"Yes--o' course," replied the imperturbable Greer. "O' course there is.

An' quite right too. Ah, it's a fine thing is the lawr--a mighty fine

thing!"

The cab rattled over the stones of Bermondsey Wall, and the two

alighted at the door through which old Jerry Cater was soon to come

feet first. Sinclair was back, much disturbed and anxious. At sight of

Paul Cater the poor fellow, weak and broken-spirited, left the house as

quietly as he might. For years of grinding habit had inured him to the

belief that in reality old Cater had treated him rather well, and now

he feared the probable action of the heirs.

"Who was that?" asked Paul Cater of Greer. "Wasn't it the clerk that

owed my uncle the money?"

Greer nodded.

"Then he's not to come here again--do you hear? I'll take charge of the

books and things. As to the debt--well, I'll see about that after. And

now look here." Paul Cater stood before Greer and spoke with decision.

"About that will, now. Bring it."

Greer was not to be bluffed. "Where from?" he asked innocently.

"Will you stand there and tell me you don't know where it is?"

"Maybe I'd best stand here and tell you what pays me best."

"Pay you? How much more do you want? Bring me that will, or I'll have

you in gaol for stealing it!"

"Lor!" answered Greer composedly, conscious of holding another trump

as well as the will. "Why, if there _was_ anybody as knowed where the

will was, and you talked to him as violent as that 'ere, why, you'd

frighten him so much he'd as likely as not go out and get a price from

your cousin, Mr. Flint. Whatever was in the will it might pay him to

get hold of it."

At this moment there came a furious knocking at the front door. "Why,"

Greer continued, "I bet that's him. It can't be nobody else--I bet the

doctor's told him, or summat."

They were on the first-floor landing, and Greer peeped from a

broken-shuttered window that looked on the street. "Yes," he said,

"that's Mr. Flint sure enough. Now, Mr. Paul Cater, business. Do you

want to see that will before I let Mr. Flint in?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Cater furiously, catching at his arm. "Quick--where is

it?"

"I want twenty pound."

"Twenty pound! You're mad! What for?"

"All right, if I'm mad, I'll go an' let Mr. Flint in."

The knocking was repeated, louder and longer.

"No," cried Cater, getting in his way. "You know you mustn't conceal a

will--that's law. Give it up."

"What's the law that says I must give it up to you, 'stead of yer

cousin? _If_ there's a will it may say anythin'--in yer favour or out

of it. If there ain't, you'll git 'alf. The will might give you more,

or it might give you less, or it might give you nothink. Twenty pound

for first look at it 'fore Flint comes in, and do what you like with it

'fore he knows anythink about it."

Again the knocking came at the door, this time supplemented by kicks.

"But I don't carry twenty pound about with me!" protested Cater, waving

his fists. "Give me the will and come to my office for the money

to-morrow!"

"No tick for this sort of job," answered Greer decisively. "Sorry I

can't oblige you--I'm goin' down to the front door." And he made as

though to go.

"Well, look here!" said Cater desperately, pulling out his pocket-book.

"I've got a note or two, I think----"

"'Ow much?" asked Greer, calmly laying hold of the pocket-book. "Two at

least. Two fivers. Well, I'll let it go at that. Give us hold." He took

the notes, and pulled out the will from his pocket. Flint, outside,

battered the door once more.

"Why," exclaimed Cater as he glanced over the sheet, "I'm sole executor

and I get the lot! Who are these witnesses?"

"Oh, they're all right. Longshore hands just hereabout. You'll get 'em

any day at the 'Ship and Anchor.'"

Cater put the will in his breast-pocket. "You'd best get out o' this,

my man," he said. "You've had me for ten pound, and the further you get

from me the safer you'll be."

"What?" said Greer with a chuckle. "Not even grateful! Shockin'!" He

took his way downstairs, and Cater followed. At the door Flint, a

counterpart of Cater, except that his dress was more slovenly, stood

ragefully.

"Ah, cousin," said Cater, standing on the threshold and preventing his

entrance, "this is a very sad loss!"

"Sad loss!" Flint replied with disgust. "A lot you think of the

loss--as much as I do, I reckon. I want to come in."

"Then you sha'n't!" Cater replied, with a prompt change of manner.

"You shan't! I'm sole executor, and I've got the will in my pocket."

He pulled it out sufficiently far to show the end of the paper, and

then returned it. "As executor I'm in charge of the property, and

responsible. It's vested in me till the will's put into effect. That's

law. And it's a bad thing for anybody to interfere with an executor.

That's law too."

Flint was angry, but cautious. "Well," he said, "you're uncommon high,

with your will and your executor's law and your 'sad loss,' I must say.

What's your game?"

For answer Cater began to shut the door.

"Just you look out!" cried Flint. "You haven't heard the last of this!

You may be executor or it may be a lie. You may have the will or you

may not; anyway I know better than to run the risk of putting myself

in the wrong now. But I'll watch you, and I'll watch this house, and

I'll be about when the will comes to be proved! And if that ain't done

quick, I'll apply for administration myself, and see the thing through!"