From the Housetops

by George Barr McCutcheon

He waited. No one spoke. Braden was looking at him now. He had recovered from his momentary collapse and was now listening intently to the old lawyer's words. There was a hard, uncompromising light in his eyes,—a sullen prophecy of trouble ahead. After a moment, Judge Hollenback construed their silence as an invitation to go on. He liked to talk.

"Our good friend Dodge says that no one else has a thing to say about the manner in which the trustee of this vast fund shall disperse his dollars." (Here he paused, for it sounded rather good to him.) "Ahem! Now does Mr. Dodge really believe what he says? Just a moment, please. I am merely formulating—er—I beg pardon, Mrs. Thorpe. You were saying—?"

"I prefer not to act as executrix of the will, Judge Hollenback," said Anne dully. "How am I to go about being released from—"

"My dear Mrs. Thorpe, you must believe me when I say that your duties,—er—the requirements,—are practically nil. Pray do not labour under the impression that—"

"It isn't that," said Anne. "I just don't want to serve, that's all. I shall refuse."

"My daughter will think the matter over for a few days, Judge Hollenback," said Mrs. Tresslyn suavely. "She does feel, I've no doubt, that it would be a tax on her strength and nerves. In a few days, I'm sure, she will feel differently." She thought she had sensed Anne's reason for hesitating. Mrs. Tresslyn had been speechless with dismay—or perhaps it was indignation—up to this moment. She had had a hard fight to control her emotions.

"We need not discuss it now, at any rate," said Anne. She found it extremely difficult to keep from looking at Braden as she spoke. Something told her that he was looking hard at her. She kept her face averted.

"Quite right, quite right," said Judge Hollenback. "I hope you will forgive me, Braden, for mentioning your—er—theories,—the theories which inspired the somewhat disturbing clause in your grandfather's will. I feel that it is my duty to explain my position in the matter. I was opposed to the creation of this fund. I tried to make your grandfather see the utter fallacy of his—shall we call it whim? Now, I will not put myself in the attitude of denying the true humanity of your theory. I daresay it has been discussed by physicians for ages. It was my aim to convince your grandfather that all the money in the world cannot bring about the result you desire. I argued from the legal point of view. There are the insurance companies to consider. They will put obstacles in the way of—"

"Pardon me, Judge Hollenback," interrupted Braden steadily. "I do not advocate an illegal act. We need not discuss my theories, however. The absurdity of the clause in my grandfather's will is as clear to me as it is to you. The conditions cannot be carried out. I shall refuse to accept this trusteeship."

Judge Hollenback stared. "But, my dear friend, you must accept. What is to become of the—er—money if you refuse to act? You can't possibly refuse. There is no other provision for the disposition of the estate. He has put it squarely up to you. There is no other solution. You may be sure, sir, that I do not care what you do with the money, and I fancy no one else will undertake to define your—"