you're fearful, better take Case number twenty-three thousand seven hundred and forty-one," smiled the lawyer.
"Hm-m; I suppose so," ejaculated the other grimly, getting to his feet.
"Well, I must be off. It's biscuit time, I see."
A moment later the door of the lawyer's sumptuously appointed office closed behind him. Not twenty-four hours afterward, however, it opened to admit him again. He was alert, eager-eyed, and smiling. He looked ten years younger. Even the office boy who ushered him in cocked a curious eye at him.
The man at the great flat-topped desk gave a surprised ejaculation.
"Hullo, Fulton! Those biscuits must be agreeing with you," he laughed.
"Mind telling me their name?"
"Ned, I've got a scheme. I think I can carry it out." Mr. Stanley G. Fulton strode across the room and dropped himself into the waiting chair. "Remember those cousins back East? Well, I'm going to find out which of 'em I want for my heir."
"Another case of investigating before investing, eh?"
"Exactly."
"Well, that's like you. What is it, a little detective work? Going to get acquainted with them, I suppose, and see how they treat you. Then you can size them up as to hearts and habits, and drop the golden plum into the lap of the worthy man, eh?"
"Yes, and no. But not the way you say. I'm going to give 'em say fifty or a hundred thousand apiece, and—"
"GIVE it to them—NOW?"
"Sure! How'm I going to know how they'll spend money till they have it to spend?"
"I know; but—"
"Oh, I've planned all that. Don't worry. Of course you'll have to fix it up for me. I shall leave instructions with you, and when the time comes all you have to do is to carry them out."
The lawyer came erect in his chair.
"LEAVE instructions! But you, yourself—?"
"Oh, I'm going to be there, in Hillerton."
"There? Hillerton?"
"Yes, where the cousins live, you know. Of course I want to see how it works."
"Humph! I suppose you think you'll find out—with you watching their every move!" The lawyer had settled back in his chair, an ironical smile on his lips.
"Oh, they won't know me, of course, except as John Smith."
"John Smith!" The lawyer was sitting erect again.
"Yes. I'm going to take that name—for a time."
"Nonsense, Fulton! Have you lost your senses?"
"No." The millionaire still smiled imperturbably. "Really, my dear Ned, I'm disappointed in you. You don't seem to realize the possibilities of this thing."
"Oh, yes, I do—perhaps better than you, old man," retorted the other with an expressive glance.
"Oh, come, Ned, listen! I've got three cousins in Hillerton. I never saw them, and they never saw me. I'm going to give them a tidy little sum of money apiece, and then have the fun of watching them spend it. Any harm in that, especially as it's no one's business what I do with my money?"
"N—no, I suppose not—if you can carry such a wild scheme through."
"I can, I think. I'm going to be John Smith."
"Nice distinctive name!"
"I chose a colorless one on purpose. I'm going to be a colorless person, you see."
"Oh! And—er—do you think Mr. Stanley G. Fulton, multi-millionaire,
with his pictured face in half the papers and magazines from the
Atlantic to the Pacific, CAN hide that face behind a colorless John
Smith?"
"Maybe not. But he can hide it behind a nice little close-cropped beard." The millionaire stroked his smooth chin reflectively.
"Humph! How large is Hillerton?"
"Eight or ten thousand. Nice little New England town, I'm told."
"Hm-m. And your—er—business in Hillerton, that will enable you to be the observing fly on your cousins' walls?"
"Yes, I've thought that all out, too; and that's another brilliant stroke. I'm going to be a genealogist. I'm going to be at work tracing the Blaisdell family—their name is Blaisdell. I'm writing a book which necessitates the collection of an endless amount of data. Now how about that fly's chances of observation. Eh?"
"Mighty poor, if he's swatted—and that's what he will be! New England housewives are death on flies, I understand."
"Well, I'll risk this one."
"You poor fellow!" There were exasperation and amusement in the lawyer's eyes, but there was only mock sympathy in his voice. "And to think I've known you all these years, and never suspected it, Fulton!"
The man who owned twenty millions still smiled imperturbably.
"Oh, yes, I know what you mean, but I'm not crazy. And really I'm interested in genealogy, too, and I've been thinking for some time I'd go digging about the roots of my ancestral tree. I have dug a little, in years gone. My mother was a Blaisdell, you know. Her grandfather was brother to some ancestor of these Hillerton Blaisdells; and I really am interested in collecting Blaisdell data. So that's all straight. I shall be telling no fibs. And think of the opportunity it gives me! Besides, I shall try to board with one of them. I've decided that."
"Upon my word, a pretty little scheme!"
"Yes, I knew you'd appreciate it, the more you thought about it." Mr.
Stanley G. Fulton's blue eyes twinkled a little.
With a disdainful gesture the lawyer brushed this aside.
"Do you mind telling me how you happened to think of it, yourself?"
"Not a bit. 'Twas a little booklet got out by a Trust Company."
"It sounds like it!"
"Oh, they didn't suggest exactly this, I'll admit; but they did suggest that, if you were fearful as to the way your heirs would handle their inheritance, you could create a trust fund for their benefit while you were living, and then watch the way the beneficiaries spent the income, as well as the way the trust fund itself was managed. In this way you could observe the effects of your gifts, and at the same time be able to change them if you didn't like results. That gave me an idea. I've just developed it. That's all. I'm going to make my cousins a little rich, and see which, if any of them, can stand being very rich."
"But the money, man! How are you going to drop a hundred thousand dollars into three men's laps, and expect to get away without an investigation as to the why and wherefore of such a singular proceeding?"
"That's where your part comes in," smiled the millionaire blandly.
"Besides, to be accurate, one of the laps is—er—a petticoat one."
"Oh, indeed! So much the worse, maybe. But—And so this is where I come in, is it? Well, and suppose I refuse to come in?"
"Regretfully I shall have to employ another attorney."
"Humph! Well?"
"But you won't refuse." The blue eyes opposite were still twinkling. "In the first place, you're my good friend—my best friend. You wouldn't be seen letting me start off on a wild-goose chase like this without your guiding hand at the helm to see that I didn't come a cropper."
"Aren't you getting your metaphors a trifle mixed?" This time the lawyer's eyes were twinkling.
"Eh? What? Well, maybe. But I reckon you get my meaning. Besides, what
I want you to do is a mere