"Did my grandmother have shares in the company?" he asked quickly.
"Ah--ah--no. That is--ah--no. Not exactly. But I understand that she was in possession of a letter or document which my clients regard as extremely valuable."
"A letter?"
"Exactly. But perhaps I had better give you an outline of the situation. Your grandmother was in her youth greatly--ah--enamoured of a certain Sidney Farlance. Perhaps at some time or other you have heard her speak of him."
"Yes."
"For various reasons her parents refused to give their consent to the alliance; but the young people for their part refused to take no for an answer, and Farlance went abroad with the intention of making his fortune in foreign parts and returning in due course to claim his bride. In this ambition he was unhappily frustrated by his--ah--premature decease in Brazil. But it appears that during his travels in British Guiana he did become the owner of a mining concession in a certain very inaccessible area of territory. British Guiana, as you are doubtless aware," continued Mr Tombs in his dry pedagogic voice, "is traditionally reputed to be the source of the legend of El Dorado; the Gilded King, who was said to cover himself with pure gold and to wash it from him in the waters of a sacred lake called Manoa----"
"Never mind all that baloney," said Harry Westler,
who was not interested in history or mythology. "Tell me about this concession."
Mr Tombs pressed his lips with a pained expression but he went on.
"At the time it did not appear that gold could be profitably obtained from this district and the claim was abandoned and forgotten. Modern engineering methods, however, have recently revealed deposits of almost fabulous value in the district, and my clients have obtained a concession to work it over a very large area of ground. Subsequent investigations into their title, meanwhile, have brought out the existence of this small --ah--prior concession granted to Sidney Farlance, which is situated almost in the centre of my client's territory and in a position which--ah--exploratory drillings have shown to be one of the richest areas in the district."
Mr Westler digested the information, and in place of the first sinking vacuum which had afflicted his stomach when he saw the word Law on his visitor's card, a sudden and ecstatic awe localized itself in the same place and began to cramp his lungs as if he had accidentally swallowed a rubber balloon with his breakfast and it was being rapidly inflated by some supernatural agency.
"You mean my grandmother owned this concession?"
"That is what--ah--my clients are endeavouring to discover. Farlance himself, of course, left no heirs, and we have been unable to trace any surviving members of his family. In the course of our inquiries, however, we did learn of his--ah--romantic interest in your grandmother, and we have every reason to believe that in the circumstances he would naturally have made her the beneficiary of any such asset, however problematical its value may have seemed at the time."
"And you want to buy it out--is that it?"
"Ah--yes. That is--ah--provided that our deductions are correct and the title can be established. I may say that my clients would be prepared to pay very liberally----"
"They'd have to," said Mr Westler briskly. "How much are they good for?"
The lawyer raised his hands deprecatingly.
"You need have no alarm, my dear Mr Westler. The actual figure would, of course, be a matter for negotiation but it would doubtless run into a number of millions. But first of all, you understand, we must trace the actual concession papers which will be sufficient to establish your right to negotiate. Now it seems, that in view of the relationship between Farlance and your grandmother, she would probably have treasured his letters as women do even though she later married someone else, particularly if there was a document of that sort among them. People don't usually throw things like that away. In that case you will doubtless have inherited these letters along with her other personal property. Possibly you have not yet had an occasion to peruse them, but if you would do so as soon as. possible----"
One of Harry Westler's few Napoleonic qualities was a remarkable capacity for quick and constructive thinking.
"Certainly I have the letters," he said, "but I haven't gone through them yet. My lawyer has them at present and he's in San Francisco today. He'll be back tomorrow morning, and I'll get hold of them at once. Come and see me again tomorrow afternoon and I expect I'll have some news for you."
"Tomorrow afternoon, Mr Westler? Certainly. I think that will be convenient. Ah--certainly." The lawyer stood up, took off his pince-nez, polished them and revolved them like a windmill on the end of their ribbon. "This has indeed been a most happy meeting, my dear sir. And may I say that I hope that tomorrow afternoon it will be even happier?"
"You can go on saying that right up till the time we start talking prices," said Harry.
The door had scarcely closed behind Mr Tombs when he was on the telephone to his cousin. He suppressed a sigh of relief when he heard her voice and announced as casually as he could his intention of coming around to see her.
"I think we ought to have another talk--I was terribly upset by the shock of Granny's death when I saw you the other day and I'm afraid I wasn't quite myself, but I'll make all the apologies you like when I get there," he said in an unfamiliarly gentle voice which cost him a great effort to achieve, and was grabbing his hat before the telephone was properly back on its bracket.
He made a call at the bank on his way, and sat in the taxi which carried him up into the hills as if its cushions had been upholstered with hot spikes. The exact words of that portion of the will which referred to the letters drummed through his memory with a staggering significance. "My letters from Sidney Far-lance, knowing that she will find them of more value than anything else I could leave her." The visit of Mr Tombs had made him understand them perfectly. His grandmother had known what was in them; but did Jacqueline know? His heart almost stopped beating with anxiety.
As he leapt out of the taxi and dashed towards the house he cannoned into a small and weirdly apparelled elderly gent who was apparently emerging from the gate at the same time. Mr Westler checked himself involuntarily, and the elderly gent, sent flying by the impact, bounced off a gatepost and tottered back at him. He clutched Harry by the sleeve and peered up at him pathetically.
"Glhwf hngwglgl," he said pleadingly, "kngnduk glu bwtlhjp mnyihgli?"
"Oh, go climb a tree," snarled Mr Westler impatiently.
He pushed the little man roughly aside and went on.
Jacqueline opened the door to him, and Mr Westler steeled himself to kiss her on the forehead with cousinly affection.
"I was an awful swine the other day, Jackie. I don't know what could have been the matter with me. I've always been terribly selfish," he said with an effort, "and at the time I didn't really see how badly Granny had treated you. She didn't leave you anything except those letters, did she?"
"She left me a hundred dollars," said Jacqueline calmly.
"A hundred dollars I" said Harry indignantly. "After you'd given up everything else to take care of her. And she left me more than twenty thousand dollars and the house and everything else in it. It's--disgusting ! But I don't have to take advantage of it, do I ? I've been thinking a lot about it lately----"
Jacqueline lighted a cigarette and regarded him stonily.
"Thanks," she said briefly. "But I haven't asked you for any charity."
"It isn't charity," protested Mr Westler virtuously. "It's just a matter of doing the decent thing. The lawyers have done their share--handed everything over to me and seen that the will was carried out. Now we can start again. We could pool everything again and divide it the way we think it ought to be divided."