"Never mind now—tell you some other time. It's enough, isn't it, that it's here?"
"All right, then. Let's take up the 'business in order,' as they say in Congress. How much shall I give you for that precious will?"
"It is a 'precious' document, I assure you, Mr. Wilson," said the scheming Roberts. "Do you know its provisions?"
"Yes, I know all about it; or all that's important; for luckily I overheard most of it read. My blessed father left everything of consequence to my cousin Nellie; but, ah! ha! that will's got to be probated, and who's to do it? That fireplace" (pointing to the grate in the room) "will tell no tale, and here's matches. But fix your terms—what shall I give you for the document?"
"One hundred dollars down, for I am about visiting my old home in Canada, and want a little more ready cash; and say, if you don't think it's too much, your promissory note, made negotiable, but with a private agreement back from me that you shall not be pressed to pay it till you get in full possession of your estate, for ten thousand dollars."
RESCUE OF THE WILL.
"A little 'steep'—aren't you, Roberts? But you are a brave fellow, and it shall be done! Here's ink, I see, and here's paper," said William, fumbling his pocket evidently for an old scrap, for he seemed to meet delays. "There, there's the note—now your agreement."
Papers rustled lightly on the table, and "All right," said Roberts; "there's the document, read it at your leisure, and do what you like with it."
At this point, in my eagerness, I had bent lower down by the door, and discovered a small, old keyhole, for the door had been evidently newly trimmed with locks, through which I could see with some distinctness.