“To defraud us of the tontine,” said his brother.
“He couldn’t; you have to have a doctor’s certificate,” objected John.
“Did you never hear of venal doctors?” inquired Morris. “They’re as common as blackberries: you can pick ’em up for three-pound-ten a head.”
“I wouldn’t do it under fifty if I were a sawbones,” ejaculated John.
“And then Michael,” continued Morris, “is in the very thick of it. All his clients have come to grief; his whole business is rotten eggs. If any man could arrange it, he could; and depend upon it, he has his plan all straight; and depend upon it, it’s a good one, for he’s clever, and be damned to him! But I’m clever too; and I’m desperate. I lost seven thousand eight hundred pounds when I was an orphan at school.”
“O, don’t be tedious,” interrupted John. “You’ve lost far more already trying to get it back.”