Part 31 (1/2)

”Yes.”

”Let's see it.”

”There will be time enough for that,” said Hinse in his most impressive tones, ”when we have settled what is to be paid on it.” Hinse was so const.i.tuted morally that he could not possibly be frank and straightforward. ”It is a policy for a thousand dollars on the life of her late husband, Thomas Moffat. He failed to pay some of the last premiums, but there is a value to it.”

”Is there?”

”There is. Will you look it up and see how the matter stands, or shall I take legal proceedings to force a settlement?”

”Better sue,” said Murray. ”Good day.”

”You will regret this interview,” announced Hinse.

”I regret it already,” returned Murray. Then, his professional instinct overcoming his dislike of the man, he added: ”If premiums have not been paid, the policy may have lapsed, or it may be non-forfeitable. I must see the policy and know the details. I never heard of Thomas Moffat that I recall. Give me the facts.”

”Ah,” said Hinse, settling himself comfortably in a chair, ”I thought you would see the wisdom of being reasonable.”

”Reasonable!” exploded Murray. ”d.a.m.n it! I'm having trouble enough being patient. Who was he, where did he live, and when did he die?”

There was something in the way this was said that led Hinse to change his tactics, and he partly explained the situation in a confidential way. Premiums had been paid on the policy for at least eight years, he said, but the widow had supposed that everything was forfeited when her husband failed to pay the later premiums: she knew nothing about cash surrender values or non-forfeitable clauses.

”She'll do what I say,” he said significantly in conclusion. ”She'll compromise for any figure that I say is right.”

He waited for Murray to reach for this bait, but Murray was merely fighting an impulse to throw the man out of the office.

”Oh, she will!” said Murray at last. ”Well, you'll talk more frankly than you have, if you want to do business with me. Where's the proof of death and the proof of ident.i.ty? Where's the policy?”

Hinse ignored the last question. He wished to find out certain things about that policy himself before he admitted that it had been destroyed, and he thought he was handling the matter with consummate skill.

”There will be no trouble about the proof of death,” he said. ”In fact, I have that with me. But Moffat and his family moved many times during the years that have elapsed since he stopped paying premiums, living in two or three different cities, and they were not always known to their neighbors.”

”I thought so,” remarked Murray sarcastically. ”Somebody died, and you want me to take it on faith that he was the Thomas Moffat who once was insured in this company. Although I haven't looked it up, I have no doubt that a Thomas Moffat did take out a policy, for I don't believe even you would have the nerve to come to me without at least that much foundation for your claim. Perhaps it was the same Thomas Moffat who died; perhaps it was a man who was merely given that name in the certificate of death. Perhaps he left a widow; perhaps you are representing that widow, but perhaps you are representing a woman who merely claims to be that widow. She has moved so often that she can't produce any satisfactory evidence of her ident.i.ty. Doesn't it strike you that you are telling a rather fishy story? Doesn't it occur to you that you ought to have ingenuity enough to concoct something more plausible?”

”This insult, sir-” Hinse s.h.i.+fted again to his pompous manner, but Murray interrupted him.

”Insult!” exclaimed Murray. ”That wasn't an insult, but I'll give you one. I think you're a tricky scoundrel. You have virtually offered to sell out your alleged client. I think you're a swindler. I don't believe you have or can produce any such policy.”

”The loss of a policy, sir-”

”I knew it!” broke in Murray. ”Policy lost, of course! In other words, your client hasn't a policy and never did have one. She's an impostor!

You or she learned that there had been such a man and such a policy, and you thought there was a chance to get some money. You must think insurance companies are easy.”

”I shall take this matter to court!” declared Hinse.

”Do!” advised Murray. ”Take it anywhere, so long as you take it out of this office.”

”You shall hear from me again!” said Hinse at the door.

”I'd rather hear from you than see you,” retorted Murray. ”You annoy me.”

Nevertheless, when Hinse had departed, Murray had the matter looked up, and found that such a policy actually had been issued, that it was non-forfeitable after three years, and that about four hundred dollars was due on it as a result of the premiums that had been paid. Murray was eminently a just man-he wished to take unfair advantage of no one. There might be merit in the claim advanced, and some woman, ent.i.tled to the money, might be in great want. Still, it was not his business to seek for ways of disbursing the company's funds. He reported the matter to the home office, and was advised to give it no further attention unless suit actually was brought. Then it should be fought. Insurance companies do not like lawsuits, but they like still less to pay out money when there is doubt as to the justice of a claim. When one of them goes into court, however, it fights bitterly. Hinse knew this, and he had not the slightest intention of bringing suit.