"Why not?"
"Skipped, I guess. He wouldn't chuck this job just to take a holiday."
"Do you know where he lived?"
"Eleventh Avenue near Fifty-fourth Street. I don't know the number, but it was over the butcher shop."
"If this man Morgan did this thing, can you imagine why he did it?"
"For pay; you can bet on that. Morgan ain't the man as would take a risk like that for the fun of the thing."
"But how could he hope to be paid for such an act?"
"Oh, he wouldn't hope. You don't know Jerry. He'd be paid, part in advance anyway, and balance on demand."
"But who would pay him, and with what object?"
"Oh, I don't know. But let me tell you something. Them brothers weren't all so lovin' to one another as the outside world thinks. In the fust place, as I gathered by listenin' to the talk of the servants, the one they called Amos didn't waste no love on the dead one, though I guess the other one, Mark, liked him some. I think he liked the widow even better." Here he laughed. "Now the dead man wanted to be cremated—that is, he said so before he was dead. The widow didn't relish the idea, but she ain't strong-minded enough to push her views. Now we'll suppose a case again. I like that style, it don't commit you to anything. Well, suppose this fellow Mark thinks he'll get into the good graces of the widow by hindering the cremation. He stands out agin it. Amos he says the old fellow wanted to be burned, and let him burn. 'He'll burn in hell, anyway.' That nice, sweet remark he did make, I'll tell you that much. Then the brothers they quarrel. And a right good row they did have, so I hear. Now we'll suppose again. Why couldn't our friend, Mr. Mark, have got up this scheme to stop the cremation?"