“Um!” says Mark when Lawyer Jones was through. “’Tis f-f-funny, hain’t it? These heirs, now. Why didn’t he up and name ’em by n-name?”
“I can’t tell you,” said Lawyer Jones.
“He acts,” says I, “like he wasn’t sure whether he had any or not.”
Mark looked at me with a squint, his little eyes twinkling like everything. “Binney,” says he, “that’s a g-good shot. I’ll bet that’s it. Anyhow, we’ll m-make b’lieve it is till we find out different. Got to have s-somethin’ to start on.”
“To start what on?” says I.
“Why,” says he, “the job of f-f-findin’ these heirs, or of findin out there hain’t any.” Then he turned to Mr. Jones. “Mr. Wigglesworth must ’a’ had a son or daughter or s-somethin’,” says he, “or he wouldn’t be s-suspectin’ he had grandchildern or great-grandchildern.”
“That sounds reasonable,” said Mr. Jones.
“Ever hear of any?” says Mark.
“In the years Mr. Wigglesworth has been here,” said Mr. Jones, “he has never mentioned a relative to me. No, I never heard that he had a child or a wife. Somehow I had always supposed he was an old bachelor.”
“Gets queerer every minute,” says Mark.