'"
Bob drew a long breath. Scattergood stared owlishly at Mary Beatty.
"Now, what d'you think of that, eh? Shouldn't be s'prised if that was
the i-dentical paper that was weighin' on the mind of young Mr. Curtis.
Shouldn't be a mite s'prised if 'twas."
"What is it, Mr. Baines?" asked Mary Beatty. "A will?"
"Wa-al, offhand I'd say it was consid'able better 'n a will. Ya-as....
Wills kin be busted, but this here docyment--I calc'late it would take
mighty powerful hammerin' to knock it apart."
"And, Mary," said Bob, "if I were you I shouldn't mention the finding of
it."
"Not to a soul," said Scattergood. "We'll take it mighty soft and spry
and shet it up in Bob's safe.... Anybody know the combination to it
besides you, Bob?"
"Nobody but you, Mr. Baines."
"Oh, me!... To be sure, me."
"And Miss Pound." "Um!... Sairy, eh? Course.... Sairy."
Within twenty-four hours everybody in Coldriver knew a paper of great
significance had been discovered affecting the heirs to Solon Beatty's
estate, and that the paper was locked in Bob Allen's safe. Bob had not
talked; Scattergood certainly had been silent, and Mary Beatty solemnly
averred that no word had passed her lips.
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