Part 11 (2/2)

”Why not answer mine?” he said. ”However, I'll ask it in another and more direct form. Have you seen my signature as witness to a will made by Jacob Herapath?”

”Yes,” replied Barthorpe.

”Are you sure it was my signature?” asked Burchill.

Barthorpe lifted his eyes and looked searchingly at his questioner. But Burchill's face told him nothing. What was more, he was beginning to feel that he was not going to get anything out of Burchill that Burchill did not want to tell. He remained silent, and again Burchill laughed.

”You see,” he said, ”I can suppose all sorts of things. I can suppose, for example, that there's such a thing as forging a signature--two signatures--three signatures to a will--or, indeed, to any other doc.u.ment. Don't you think that instead of asking me a direct question like this that you'd better wait until this will comes before the--is it the Probate Court?--and then let some of the legal gentlemen ask me if that--that!--is my signature? I'm only putting it to you, you know. But perhaps you'd like to tell me--all about it?” He paused, looking carefully at Barthorpe, and as Barthorpe made no immediate answer, he went on speaking in a lower, softer tone. ”All about it,” he repeated insinuatingly. ”Ah!”

Barthorpe suddenly flung his cigarette in the hearth with a gesture that implied decision.

”I will!” he exclaimed. ”It may be the shortest way out. Very well--listen, then. I tell you my uncle was murdered at his office about--well, somewhere between twelve and three o'clock this morning.

Naturally, after the preliminaries were over, I wanted to find out if he'd made a will--naturally, I say.”

”Naturally, you would,” murmured Burchill.

”I didn't believe he had,” continued Barthorpe. ”But I examined his safe at the office, and I was going to examine that in his study at Portman Square when Tertius said in the presence of my cousin, myself, and Selwood, your successor, that there was a will, and produced one from a secret drawer in an old bureau----”

”A secret drawer in an old bureau!” murmured Burchill. ”How deeply interesting for all of you!--quite dramatic. Yes?”

”Which, on being inspected,” continued Barthorpe, ”proved to be a holograph----”

”Pardon,” interrupted Burchill, ”a holograph? Now, I am very ignorant.

What is a holograph?”

”A holograph will is a will entirely written in the handwriting of the person who makes it,” replied Barthorpe.

”I see. So this was written out by Mr. Jacob Herapath, and witnessed by--whom?” asked Burchill.

”Tertius as first witness, and you as second,” answered Barthorpe. ”Now then, I've told you all about it. What are you going to tell me?

Come--did you witness this will or not? Good gracious, man!--don't you see what a serious thing it is?”

”How can I when I don't know the contents of the will?” asked Burchill.

”You haven't told me that--yet.”

Barthorpe swallowed an exclamation of rage.

”Contents!” he exclaimed. ”He left everything--everything!--to my cousin! Everything to her.”

”And nothing to you,” said Burchill, accentuating his habitual drawl.

”Really, how infernally inconsiderate! Yes--now I see that it is serious. But--only for you.”

Barthorpe glared angrily at him and began to growl, almost threateningly.

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