Captain Gibbs again laughed shortly, and took a large leather pocket-book from an inner pocket of his coat, and from one of its many compartments drew forth a folded slip of paper.
“Here they are,” he said.
Benson with great deliberation lighted a taper at the fire, and then the candles on the mantel; then he took the folded slip of paper from Gibbs and leisurely examined it.
“The lady's to be congratulated,” he observed sarcastically. “Thanks,” said the captain sententiously. “I am not mistaken, am I, in supposing that you were Mr. Tucker's lawyer at the time of his death?”
“No.”
“Did he leave a will?”
“He did.”
“As—as Mrs. Tucker's husband, have you any objection to telling me how he disposed of his property; and its extent?”
“Not the least in the world.”
There was another pause. The captain was waiting for Benson to go on; but Benson was silent.