“I summoned you,” returned Farman quietly, “to represent your own interest. I sent the same word to all the other heirs. I cannot see where your supposition of absence has any bearing upon the terms of the will.”
“Did it specifically mention that I must be here?” persisted Jasper.
With an annoyed glance, Farman picked up a document and read:
“I, Caleb Delthern, being sound in mind, do hereby declare to my lawful heirs here assembled that one month from this time and date they shall again assemble to be granted final apportionment of my estate. To the oldest heir, one half of the full apportionment; to the remaining heirs an equal division of the remainder—”
“Wait a minute!” blurted Jasper. “That’s what you should have done in the first place — given us a reading of the document. It is addressed to the heirs here assembled, isn’t it?”
“Exactly,” retorted Farman. “That is why I made it urgent for you to be here.”
“Then,” said Jasper shrewdly, “if I hadn’t shown up, I would have been out. Well, I’m here, so I’m in. But Warren Barringer isn’t here. That lets him out. The split is between Humphrey, Marcia, and myself.”
Farman rose to his feet and pounded the table indignantly. The lights in the candelabrum flickered, and gobs of wax dropped upon the polished table.
“Outrageous!” exclaimed the lawyer. “Outrageous! You have misconstrued the meaning of the will entirely!”
“To my lawful heirs here assembled,” mocked Jasper, repeating the phraseology of the document.
Humphrey Delthern had been eying Jasper suspiciously. It was plain that there was no brotherly love between them. But now, with the point at issue, a spreading grin appeared upon Humphrey’s lips.
“Jasper is right,” argued Humphrey to Farman. “Warren Barringer has failed to appear. He loses his right to share in the estate.”
Horatio Farman glanced toward Marcia Wardrop. He saw the disdain on the girl’s face as she looked at her wrangling, avaricious cousins. Here was one supporter. Farman studied Winstead Delthern; then made his appeal to the new head of the family.
“The settlement of the estate,” declared Farman, “comes one month from tonight. The time element was allowed so that all relatives could arrive after being summoned. I called you all, as was provided, and expected all to be present if possible.
“In the case of Warren Barringer, presence was impossible. Caleb Delthern died less than two weeks ago. I cabled Warren Barringer in Hongkong. He is on his way home. He authorized a proxy, by cable.
“I received word from a man in New York, named Lamont Cranston. He stated that Warren Barringer had requested him to appear as the proxy. I replied that this first meeting would be purely a preliminary one, and advised Cranston that a proxy was unnecessary, although he might attend this meeting if he chose to do so. I promised that I would sustain Warren Barringer’s rights.”
“A proxy!” rasped Humphrey Delthern. “Preposterous! The truth is self-evident, Farman. Warren Barringer loses his rights by not being here tonight.”
IT was apparent that Humphrey and Jasper both figured the million and a half that they might usurp as being far more important than a spirit of fair play. Horatio Farman, however, met Humphrey’s challenge with promptitude.
“You are not the one to make a decision,” remarked the lawyer sternly. “You forget that I am the administrator of the estate.
“If any one of the heirs has a right to demand such an interpretation of the will, it is Winstead Delthern. He is the head of the house; furthermore” — Farman’s note was ironical — “he has no selfish interest involved, as his proportion of the estate is already established. I leave it to him, therefore, to agree with me.”
This statement shifted the attack. Both Humphrey Delthern and Jasper swung to Winstead.
Horatio Farman suddenly realized his mistake. Neither Winstead nor Humphrey were on good terms with their brother Jasper, but their own sour dispositions were somewhat mutual. There was every reason why Winstead would favor brother Humphrey in preference to an unknown cousin, Warren Barringer.
The oldest of the Deltherns held up his hand for quiet. He studied the situation thoughtfully. The lights flickered throughout this gloomy room, and showed the faces in grotesque light.
Winstead was pondering; Humphrey and Jasper were silently gloating; Marcia Wardrop was biting her lip in indignation. Horatio Farman looked on with anxiety. He expected the question that was coming.
“How much weight,” questioned Winstead Delthern, “will my decision carry?”
“A great deal,” admitted Horatio Farman frankly. “The documents which your grandfather left place considerable authority in the hands of the eldest survivor. They also stipulate that all possible heirs be decided upon at this meeting.”
“Then if I decide in favor of Warren Barringer,” declared Winstead, “there can be no further question.”
“None at all.”
“And if I decide against him?”
“It will be difficult for him to prove his case.”
Humphrey Delthern shot a significant glance at his chief brother. Horatio Farman saw that Winstead was about to weaken. The lawyer ejaculated a quick warning.
“Remember, Winstead!” he exclaimed. “Your grandfather placed great trust in you as the eldest of the Deltherns. You are in the home that was his — in the hall where he believed his fathers dwell! This meeting is held here tonight because Caleb Delthern actually believed that he would attend it in spirit if not in flesh!”
The lawyer’s words sounded impressive amid the flickering light of the gloomy room. Winstead Delthern paled noticeably. Humphrey’s eyes became cold. Jasper, alone, broke the tension with an ugly chuckle. The sound made Humphrey smile.
“Ghosts,” he said to Winstead. “have no part in this procedure. We await your opinion, brother. Say, rather, your decision.”
WINSTEAD DELTHERN cleared his throat. He nodded, and it was plain which way he intended to turn. His own rights safe, he was ready to favor Humphrey’s claim.
“Farman,” declared Winstead coldly, “I can see but one possible decision. I shall make it with emphasis. Warren Barringer’s rights are not—”
The slow tones ended. Winstead Delthern’s face became frozen. Words stopped upon his lips as a strange, uncanny sound came to his ears.
The others heard it also — a rising sigh that seemed to spring from the very air of the room. While every person in that great room sat as solid as a statue, the weird sound broke into a mighty shudder.
Then, from unseen lips, came the sound of an eerie laugh that chilled the listeners. The sinister mirth broke like a crashing wave. The candle flames seemed to waver as the burst of ghostly mockery swept through the gloomy hall.
As the laugh died, weird echoes took up the cry. The sardonic tones reverberated from the very walls of the room, coming in breaking waves that might well be the merriment of a horde of invisible demons.
A myriad of gasping taunts resounded; then, through the gloom came the final touch — strange sibilant gibes that swept along the passages of the whispering gallery.
Faces filled with frozen fear surrounded the table in the center of the room. None of the persons assembled there dared move. Stark terror ruled.
Those weird echoes had come as the laugh of a ghost!
CHAPTER III
THE SHADOW DECIDES
MINUTES after that ghoulish mirth had swept through the great reception hall of Delthern Manor, Horatio Farman spoke. The lawyer, despite the pangs of chilling fear that had swept over him, was the first to regain his voice. It was fitting that he should restore calm to the gathering, for it was he who had invoked this ghostly aid.