“I shall fight for Lucille’s rights,” shouted Colonel Hull, his temper at white heat. “That will shan’t be probated without a contest.”
Hollister replaced the will and its accompanying manuscript in his brief case and carefully closed and locked the leather flap. Slipping the key in his pocket he faced the infuriated stockbroker.
“This document will be filed with the registrar of wills at once,” he said. “You are at liberty to take whatever action you please.” He turned to Mrs. Meredith. “I am going to my room, Mrs. Meredith, and within the hour shall return to my office. Is there anything I can do for you and Anne?”
“Nothing, thank you,” Mrs. Meredith was graciousness itself, “except to return in time for dinner. I will consult with you then,” and she nodded a friendly good-by.
As Hollister, with a kindly word to Anne who sat as one dazed, passed Curtis he tapped the blind surgeon on the shoulder.
“Come up to my room,” he whispered, and not waiting to hear what Curtis said to Mrs. Meredith, slipped out of the room as Colonel Hull and his agitated daughter disappeared into the little-used drawing-room.
Curtis was not far behind Hollister in reaching the latter’s bedroom.
“What do you wish to see me about, Hollister?” he asked, as the lawyer closed the bedroom door and half dragged him over to the window seat.
“A new development,” answered the lawyer tersely. “You recall this inventory,” taking a sheet of paper out of his wallet. “It is the paper we found in John’s secretary which bears the notation, in his handwriting: ‘Contents of safe deposit box belongs to.’”
“Yes, I recollect it,” Curtis said impatiently as the lawyer paused. “The name was evidently clipped off the page. Go on.”