"He resented their drain upon his pocket-book. He hadn't enough left for them and brandy too. Though the Lord knows they never cost him much. Nellie Craig had them for a while after Cordelia died. Good old soul, Nellie. But her tongue hung in the middle and worked both ways like a bell-clapper. I always blamed her for the start of the miser yarn. Adam managed to get it over on her and that was enough."
He made a final effort to read the will and while Kenny sat in stony silence, choking back a creepy feeling of despair, reached the clause pertaining to the residue of Adam's wealth.
"Ah!" he said.
"Well?" choked Kenny. "Is there some damned commonplace explanation for that, too?"
The doctor tapped the paper with his stubby finger.
"And you," he marveled, "who knew so well his devilish cunning! That clause I think was his last cruel jest."
Kenny turned white.
"A trap!" he said.
"A trap," said the doctor. "And you've swallowed bait and trap and all."
"How he must have hated me?"