“I drew up a will the other day in which you were named as executor,” said Kerrigan, mounting a stool at the bookkeeper’s desk.
Mason looked at him questioningly.
“It’s old Miss Cassidy who kept house for your father, years ago. She said that she had not spoken to you about the matter, but that she felt sure that you would consent to act.”
“She’s a queer old soul,” smiled Mason.
“No queerer than the will she had me make for her. Quite a tidy sum of money, too.”
“She was very saving; and then father thought well of her and advised her about small investments which were successful. But what induced her to make a will? Is she ill?”
“She says she is getting old, and thought that the matter should be settled. By the way, Mason, there are rumours going about the City Hall that must interest a reformer like you,” and Kerrigan smiled at his friend. “The Motor Traction Company is endeavouring to secure possession of Center and Line streets.”
“Do they contemplate purchasing the rights of the new company?”
“Not while there’s a chance to steal them; and from what I’ve heard during the last few days that has been their object since the time the injunction was granted against the rival concern.”
The young attorney planted his back against the desk and braced himself with his elbows. “Let me give you a sketch of the thing,” said he. “The City Railway Company was duly chartered, secured the franchise from councils for these two streets and spent thousands of good dollars in putting down road-bed, rails and all that sort of thing. At this stage the Motor Company suddenly discovered that Center and Line streets were arteries that would tap the thickly populated sections, and that the new company would reduce their earnings.