"Why, yes,—and here it goes," cried Philo, with sudden energy, pulling it out, and shredding it in strips. John was not to be outdone. With equal eagerness he pulled his out, and, in a few seconds, both the wills were fluttering in fragments among the elderberry bushes by the road-side.
"What a contemptible old screw I've been!" exclaimed John, penitentially, as the insurance table came into his mind.
"No worse than I," said Philo, thinking of all his drudging, grovelling years.
"Why, do you know I've wished you dead," burst out John.
"Well, suppose you have,—I've done the same by you," answered Philo.
"May God forgive us both."
"Amen," said Philo, solemnly.
"And help us in the future," continued John.
"Amen again," said Philo.
The muffled clatter of a horse's hoofs sounded through the fog, and presently the twinkling face of Jack Niles beamed upon the ghostly couple. Looking with well simulated astonishment on the group, the empty gig, and his venerable namesake standing in the middle of the road, Jack paused and begged to know what was the trouble, and whether he could be of service.