"How on earth did you come here?" asked Prelice, amazed.
"Walked," retorted Horace gruffly. "I caught an earlier train, and so got here before the time mentioned in my wire. Good-evening, Shepworth; so you've been killed. Eh?"
"Oh, I'm alive yet," laughed the barrister; and then Dr. Horace was introduced to Mr. Martaban, to whom he immediately addressed himself.
"I'm glad that you are here," he said in his usual growling tones. "I mean you, sir, the land-shark. I've some business for you."
"Is this the time to talk business?" said Martaban somewhat annoyed, as after a good dinner he did not feel able to give advice.
"Judge for yourself," said Horace, fishing a blue envelope, foolscap size, out of the breast-pocket of his shabby coat. "Look at that."
Martaban did so, and so did Prelice and Shepworth, peering over the shoulder of his dress-coat. Martaban uttered a cry of amazement.
"Why, it's the missing will!" he almost shouted.