From the Housetops

by George Barr McCutcheon

CHAPTER XVIII

Simmy Dodge was the first to speak. He was the first to grasp the full meaning of this deliberately ambiguous will. His face cleared.

"By Jove!" he exclaimed, without respect for the proprieties. He slapped Braden on the back, somewhat enthusiastically. "We sha'n't have to smash it, after all. It's the cleverest thing I've ever listened to, old man. What a head your grandfather had on his—"

Braden leaped to his feet, his face quivering. "Of course we'll smash it," he stormed. "Do you suppose or imagine for an instant that I will allow such a thing as that to stand? Do you—"

"Go slow, Brady, go slow," broke in his excited, self-appointed lawyer. "Can't you see through it? Can't you see what he was after? Why, good Lord, man, he has made you the principal legatee,—he has actually given you everything. All this rigmarole about a trust or a foundation or whatever you want to call it amounts to absolutely nothing. The money is yours to do what you like with as long as you live. You have complete control of every dollar of it. No one else has a thing to say about it. Why, it's the slickest, soundest will I've—"

"Oh, my God!" groaned Braden, dropping into a chair and covering his face with his hands.

Judge Hollenback was smiling benignly. He had drawn the will. He knew that it was sound, if not "slick," as Simmy had described it. The three Tresslyns leaned forward in their chairs, bewildered, dumbfounded. Their gaze was fixed on the shaking figure of Braden Thorpe.

As for Wade, he had sunk helplessly into a chair. A strange, hunted look appeared in his eyes. His chin sank lower and lower, and his body twitched. He was not caring what happened to Braden Thorpe, he was not even thinking about the vast fortune that had been placed at the young man's disposal. His soul was sick. In spite of all that he could do to prevent it, his gaze went furtively to Murray's rubicund jowl, and then shifted to the rapt, eager face of his young mistress. Twenty-five thousand dollars! There was no excuse for him now. With all that money he could not hope to stay on in service. He was rich. He would have to go out into the world and shift for himself. He could not go on 'tending furnace for Mrs. Thorpe,—he couldn't take the bread out of some deserving wretch's mouth by hanging onto the job with all that money in his possession. Mrs. Thorpe would congratulate him on the morrow, and turn him out. And no one would tell him where to go,—unless it might be Murray, in a fit of anger.

"Mr. Thorpe was not moved by any desire to circumvent certain—perhaps I should say that he intended you, Dr. Thorpe, to act in strict accordance with the provisions of the will," said Judge Hollenback. "He did not lose sight of the fact that he had promised to leave you out of his will completely. This money is not yours. It is in your hands as trustee. Mr. Dodge is wrong. Your grandfather was very deeply in earnest when he authorised the drawing of this instrument. You will discover, on reading it carefully and thoughtfully, that he does not give you the right to divert any of this money to your own private uses, but clearly says that it is to be employed, under your sole direction and as you see fit, for the carrying out of your ideas along certain lines. He has left a letter for you, Dr. Thorpe, which I have been privileged to read. You will find it in this envelope. For the benefit of future beneficiaries under this instrument, I may say that he expresses the hope and desire that you will not permit the movement to languish after your death. In fact, he expressly instructs you to establish during your life time a systematic scheme of education by reason of which the world eventually may become converted to the ideas which you promulgate and defend. He realised that this cannot he brought about in one generation, nor in two, three or four. Indeed, he ventures the opinion that two centuries may pass before this sound and sensible theory of yours,—the words are his, not mine,—becomes a reality. Two centuries, mind you. So, you will see, he does not expect you to perform a miracle, Braden. You are to start the ball rolling, so to speak, in a definite, well-supported groove, from which there can be no deviation. By this will, you are to have free and unhampered use of a vast sum of money. He does not bind you in any particular. So much for the outward expression of the will. Inversely, however, as you will find by reading this letter, you are not so completely free to exercise your own discretion. You will find that while he gives to you the undisputed right to bequeath this fortune as you may see fit at the expiration of your term as trustee—in short, at your death,—he suggests that,—being an honourable and conscientious man to his certain knowledge,—you will create a so-called foundation for the perpetuation of your ideas—and his, I may add. This foundation is to grow out of and to be the real development of the trust over which you now have absolute control. But all this, my friend, we may discuss later on. The real significance of Mr. Thorpe's will is to be found in the faith he reposes in you. He puts you on your honour. He entrusts this no inconsiderable fortune to your care. It rests entirely with you as to the manner in which it shall be used. If you elect to squander it, there is no one to say nay to you. It is expressly stated here that the trust comprehends the spread of the doctrines you advocate, but it does not pretend to guide or direct you in the handling of the funds. Mr. Thorpe trusts you to be governed by the dictates of your own honour. I have no hesitancy in saying that I protested against this extraordinary way of creating a trust, declaring to him that I thought he was doing wrong in placing you in such a position,—that is to say, it was wrong of him to put temptation in your way. He was confident, however. In fact, he was entirely satisfied with the arrangement. I will admit that at the time I had a queer impression that he was chuckling to himself, but of course I was wrong. It was merely the quick and difficult breathing of one in dire pain. The situation is quite plain, ladies and gentlemen. The will is sound. Mr. Dodge has observed,—somewhat hastily I submit,—that he believes it will not have to be smashed. He says that the money has been left to Dr. Thorpe, and that the trust is a rigmarole, or something of the sort. Mr. Dodge is right, after a fashion. If Dr. Thorpe chooses to violate his grandfather's staunch belief in his integrity, if he elects to disregard the suggestions set down in this letter—which, you must understand, is in no sense a legal supplement to the will,—he may justify Mr. Dodge's contention that the fortune is his to do with as he pleases." He turned to Anne. "I beg to inform you, Mrs. Thorpe, that your duties as executrix will not prove onerous. Your late husband left his affairs in such shape that there will be absolutely no difficulty in settling the estate. It could be done in half an hour, if necessary. Everything is ship-shape, as the saying is. I shall be glad to place myself at the command of yourself and your attorneys. Have no hesitancy in calling upon me."