“I have,” put in Rex, before Mrs. Pell could speak. “I couldn’t get a word out of him before he went to sleep last night. One would think he’d had a trouble like mine to bear,” and Rex sighed with the air of a martyr.
Roy glanced over at him quickly. What would this luxury loving brother of his say if he only knew! But Roy did not dare tell yet. Mr. Tyler might live for years, and have ample opportunity to change his mind about his will. Yes, it was better to keep the matter to himself as long as he could.
“What’s queer about me?” he said now.
“Why, you’re giving such short answers to our questions about the old miser,” returned Jess promptly. “As a rule you’d tell us all we wanted to know without our having to draw it out as if we were pulling teeth.”
“Well, what is it you want to know?”
“Oh, all about your experience over at Mr. Tyler’s. The people up in the town will hear about your being there and will expect us to know all the details. It is quite an event for a queer old character like the Burdock miser to make a will.”
“But people when they make their wills don’t usually tell everybody in the house what they put into them. It’s a sort of confidential matter, don’t you understand?”
“I’ll wager you know all about it, Roy,” broke in Rex suddenly, dropping the biscuit he was buttering and staring at his brother fixedly for a moment “I shouldn’t be surprised if the old fellow had made you his heir for what you did for him.”
“Well, if he did,” answered Roy with a smile, “it wouldn’t enable you to take that trip to Canada, as he isn’t dead yet and may live to be ninety.”
“He’s just the kind that do hang on,” remarked Jess. “People that nobody seems to care about generally do.”