"Then run up with me to Tarleigh," said Billy cordially.
The A. P, was not one of those fellows who affect a ridiculous hesitation when given an invitation.
"Thanks, awfully, old man," he replied. "I'm on absolutely. Is there time to look in at the Naval Club? I expect letters awaiting me."
"Right-o!" assented Billy. "By the powers, 'tis good to find oneself in England after our little jaunt. Makes a fellow completely bucked, especially after a jolly good bath, fresh clothes and all that. Ugh! Those togs we took from that barge!"
"Coming in?" inquired Kirkwood, as the pair arrived at the entrance of the Naval Club.
"No, not now," replied the flight-sub. "I'll go to the post office and send a wire to let my people know we are on the way. I'll pick you up at the station."
Barcroft had sent a telegram to his parents from the Hook of Holland announcing his safety. He had also gone to the post office immediately upon his arrival in England, but the place did not open till nine. It was now nearly noon.
He had not gone more than a hundred yards when Kirkwood overtook him, flushed with excitement.
"Here's a business!" he exclaimed. "Don't know whether to be sorry or glad. I've just had a letter informing me that my uncle, Antonius Grabb, has shuffled off this mortal coil. This is from his partner, who, apparently, is executor to the will. He wants me to call at his office as soon as possible. Billy, my festive, I'm afraid I'm a rich man. The thought of it appals me. I've handled thousands of Government cash in my time, but never had as much as a hundred to my credit before."
"Congrats, you lucky bounder!" said Billy heartily.
"And so I have to run up to Town," continued the A.P., "there to face an interview of momentous import. Frankly I funk it. How about it? Will you come with me? We can put up at the Whatsname Hotel—you know where I mean—and take the first train in the morning to Tarleigh."
"All right," assented Barcroft, after a brief consideration of the proposal. "We'll have to look sharp if we're to catch that twelve-fifteen. Here's luck—a taxi."
"Well, that is playing a low-down game," remarked Fuller as they rejoined him on the platform. "You two unsociables, declining my invitation to run up to Town, have evidently hatched a plot to have a stunt on your own account. But I've spotted your little game, you sly dogs. Now own up—what's the move?"
"We did change our minds," confessed the A.P. "Force of circumstances, you know. Fuller, I'm a millionaire of sorts—in pence, I fancy. At any rate, my uncle Antonius has died, and we're off to see his executor. Come to his office with us? The more the merrier, you know, and I'll stand dinner at the Carlton, if it hasn't been 'taken over.'"
Arriving at Ely Place the three officers were ushered into the presence of Mr. Fasly Gott, junior partner of the firm of Grabb and Gott.
The lawyer regarded his callers with wellconcealed interest.
"Mr. Robert Kirkwood, I presume," he exclaimed addressing Fuller.
"Almost wish I were," muttered the lieutenant to himself as he indicated the rightful bearer of the name.
"Ah, yes, of course," murmured Mr. Gott, re-adjusting his pince-nez. "I can see a strong resemblance to your late relative, my esteemed partner."
"That's not a compliment," thought the A.P. "In fact, it is a downright perversion." The lawyer cleared his throat. Obviously he did not like the presence of three officers in naval uniform. His reason was soon apparent.
"Your uncle's will," he continued, "is, to say the least, somewhat out of the ordinary. First let me impress upon you that its contents were absolutely unknown to me, his executor, until after his decease. He leaves the whole of his real and personal estate, representing a sum of at least seventy thousand pounds, to his nephew, Robert Angus Kirkwood——"
"Lucky dog!" interposed the irrepressible Fuller.
Mr. Gott gave a deprecatory cough. Levity was a rare emotion in that gloomy office, the motto of which in the vast majority of cases ought to be—'Abandon Hope, all ye who Enter Here.'
"Subject to one condition," he continued. "My late partner, as you might know, was a man of pacific temperament. Here I must hasten to explain that the will is dated 1913, that is, a twelvemonth previous to the outbreak of this deplorable war, and there is no codicil. The condition is as follows:—That the said Robert Angus Kirkwood resigns his commission in his Majesty's Navy, otherwise the bulk of the estate goes to the Society for the Encouragement of the Discovery of Antediluvian Remains."
"In that case," rejoined Kirkwood calmly, "I think you had better communicate with the secretary of the Society for the Encouragement of the Discovery of Antediluvian Remains and inform him that my uncle's legacy is at his disposal. I am rather surprised that you should have written asking me to call. The proposition is an insult to His Majesty's Service."
"You show the proper spirit, Mr. Kirkwood," said the lawyer, with genuine admiration for the young officer's esprit de corps. "It is a peculiar will, and, if you desire to dispute its terms, you may be successful at the Courts; I should be happy to undertake the case. However, there is one clause. The bulk of the estate goes to this eccentric Society. The residue, consisting of deeds of real estates to the value of seven thousand pounds, goes to you unconditionally."
The interview lasted about twenty minutes, at the end of which the three officers prepared to leave.
"By the bye," remarked the A.P., "I suppose you can let me have a copy of the list of securities?"
"Yes, a copy," replied Mr. Gott. "The deeds will be handed over when probate of the Will has been declared. You will understand that the duties will be considerable?"
"Lucky to have to pay 'em," commented Kirkwood. "Thank you, Mr. Gott. Good afternoon."
It was not until the following morning when Barcroft and the A.P. were speeding north by the 5.15 express on their way to Tarleigh that the flight-sub mentioned a matter that was on his mind—a delicate request the reason for which Billy could not very well explain.
"By the bye, old man," he began "what do you propose doing with those deeds when they are handed over to you?"
"Hanged if I know," replied Kirkwood. "Haven't troubled much about them. Simply carry on and make good use of the interest, I suppose. Seems a fairly safe investment, but personally I'd rather sell out and shove the money into the War Loan."
"Are you willing to hand one of the deeds over to me?" asked Billy.
The A.P. looked at his companion in surprise. "Certainly," he replied. "Didn't know—hang it!—I'd no idea you were in need——"
"No, not that," interposed Barcroft. "A cash transaction, most decidedly. There's one—originally belonging to a Mrs. Deringhame—I'm rather keen on having. Can't very well explain why, unless you insist upon an explanation, only I thought——"
"Don't worry, old bird," said Kirkwood. "It's yours on your terms. I see by the list that old rascal Gott gave me that this particular document is included. That's settled, then."
"Thanks awfully," said Billy gratefully. "Some day I'll be able to tell you why I wanted it. When do you think the business in connection with your late uncle's will will be settled?"
"About a week, I should say," replied the A.P. "At any rate, if it isn't I think I can reasonably apply for an extension of leave."
It was after nine when the two officers arrived at Barborough. Here they found that the next train on to Tarleigh would not leave for another hour and a half.
"There's no particular hurry," remarked Billy. "But, all the same, I don't see why we should cool our heels in this draughty show. I vote we walk."
He could not help wondering why his father had not been waiting for him on the platform. Perhaps he was even now on his way with the car—that wretched magneto ought to be repaired by this time.