"But it was contradicted," said Owlett quickly.
"Ah, but I think it was true all the same," and Prindle shook his head obstinately. "The papers ought to know."
"Oh yes, they ought to know, but in nine cases out of ten they don't know," declared Owlett. "And if you contradict their lies, they're so savage at being put in the wrong that they'll blazon the lies all the more rather than confess them. That will do, Prindle! You can go."
Prindle, aware that his employer was not a man to be argued with, at once retired, and Owlett, folding up the Will, handed it to Helmsley.
"That's all right," he said, "I suppose you want to take it with you? You can leave it with us if you like."
"Thank you, but I'd rather have it about me," Helmsley answered. "You see I'm old and not very strong, and I might die at any time. I'd like to keep my Will on my own person."
"Well, take care of it, that's all," said the solicitor, smiling at what he thought his client's rustic naïveté. "No matter how little you've got to leave, it's just as well it should go where you want it to go without trouble or difficulty. And there's generally a quarrel over every Will."
"I hope there's no chance of any quarrel over mine," said Helmsley, with a touch of anxiety.
"Oh no! Not the least in the world! Even if you were as great a millionaire as the man who happens to bear the same name as yourself, the Will would hold good."
"Thank you!" And Helmsley placed on the lawyer's desk more than his rightful fee, which that respectable personage accepted without any hesitation. "I'm very much obliged to you. Good afternoon!"