During that short visit to the corpse, Nick made one very important observation, which was lost upon Abbott and the woman, Emma.
Rover had followed them in, and, while Nick was looking at the dead man, the dog came up to the coffin, also looked at the face of the corpse, gave one or two sniffs and walked away, without exhibiting a particle of canine grief over his loss.
They found the young and comely widow in the sitting room, surrounded by several condoling neighboring women, who took their departure as Abbott entered.
The doctor introduced his friend and visitor, Mr. Ketchum, from the city, and made his excuses for bringing a stranger to the house of mourning.
“The fact is, my dear Mrs. Mackenzie, we may need an additional witness, when the life insurance is collected, and as Mr. Ketchum is a stranger in Elmwood, he will serve as such much better than one of your neighbors.”
This explanation may have been satisfactory to the widow, but Nick noticed that she, too, bestowed more attention upon him than the circumstances seemed to call for.
“You will pardon me, Mrs. Mackenzie, for mentioning such a matter now, I know, because you are aware what good friends your husband and I were; but I’m going to ask whether you have any knowledge of a will which he left?”
“He never spoke to me of a will. Did he to you?”
“Yes. That is why I asked. He told me that it was his design to give you the proceeds of his life insurance, and his estate in hand to his son, Leo.”
“Then he made more of a confidant of you than of me. If there is such a will, it may be in his room—in his desk. Shall we go and see?”