'It's the other way about with me.'
'No, it's not. Bill, do you know a man named Nichols?'
'Nichols?'
'J. Nichols. He said he knew you. He said he had told you about
Uncle Ira leaving you his money.'
'Jerry Nichols! How on earth—Oh, I remember. He wrote to you, didn't he?'
'He did. And this morning, just after you had left, he called.'
'Jerry Nichols called?'
'To tell me that Uncle Ira had made another will before he died, leaving the money to me.'
Their eyes met.
'So I stole his car and caught the train,' said Elizabeth, simply.