On Board the Heloise

December 25, 1901.

John Glenarm, Esq.,

Glenarm House,

Annandale, Wabana Co., Indiana:

DEAR, SIR—I have just learned from what I believe to be a trustworthy source that you have already violated the terms of the agreement under which you entered into residence on the property near Annandale, known as Glenarm House. The provisions of the will of John Marshall Glenarm are plain and unequivocal, as you undoubtedly understood when you accepted them, and your absence, not only from the estate itself, but from Wabana County, violates beyond question your right to inherit.

I, as executor, therefore demand that you at once vacate said property, leaving it in as good condition as when received by you.      Very truly yours,

ARTHUR PICKERING,

Executor of the Estate of John Marshall Glenarm.

“Very truly the devil’s,” growled Larry, snapping his cigarette case viciously.

“How did he find out ?” I asked lamely, but my heart sank like lead. Had Marian Devereux told him! How else could he know ?

“Probably from the stars,—the whole universe undoubtedly saw you skipping off to meet your lady-love. Bah, these women !”

“Tut ! They don’t all marry the sons of brewers,” I retorted. “You assured me once, while your affair with that Irish girl was on, that the short upper lip made Heaven seem possible, but unnecessary; then the next thing I knew she had shaken you for the bloated maltster. Take that for your impertinence. But perhaps it was Bates?”

I did not wait for an answer. I was not in a mood for reflection or nice distinctions. The man came in just then with a fresh plate of toast.

“Bates, Mr. Pickering has learned that I was away from the house on the night of the attack, and I’m ordered off for having broken my agreement to stay here. How do you suppose he heard of it so promptly ?”

“From Morgan, quite possibly. I have a letter from Mr. Pickering myself this morning. Just a moment, sir.”

He placed before me a note bearing the same date as my own. It was a sharp rebuke of Bates for his failure to report my absence, and he was ordered to prepare to leave on the first of February. “Close your accounts at the shopkeepers’ and I will audit your bills on my arrival.”

The tone was peremptory and contemptuous. Bates had failed to satisfy Pickering and was flung off like a smoked-out cigar.

“How much had he allowed you for expenses, Bates ?” He met my gaze imperturbably.

“He paid me fifty dollars a month as wages, sir, and I was allowed seventy-five for other expenses.”

“But you didn’t buy English pheasants and champagne on that allowance !”

He was carrying away the coffee tray and his eyes wandered to the windows.

“Not quite, sir. You see—”

“But I don’t see !”