"Yes, Mr. Tyler, What can I do for you?" and Sydney followed Roy into
the bedroom.

"You can make my will," replied the old man promptly. "That doesn't
mean that I am going to die right away," he added hastily, "but I've
had a warning. Why, I may have time to make two or three wills before
I give up the ship."

He laughed hoarsely and started to get up. But he was weaker than he
supposed, and fell back on the bed with a little gasp just as he had
done out by the trestle.

"Don't exert yourself too much, Mr. Tyler," said Sydney. "I can fix
the thing up for you while you are lying right here. I think I saw a
bottle of ink and some paper in the other room. Roy can help me bring
in that table that stands there, and then I can take down whatever you
wish and you can sign it. But you will want witnesses."

"There's Ann, she can be one," responded the old man.

"And I told the girls to send a doctor up here. He can be another,"
put in Roy. Then he added, when all was arranged: "I suppose I had
better go out."

"Yes, you can go out and watch for the doctor," said Sydney. "Now
then," he went on, turning to Mr. Tyler when they were alone, and
after he had written out the regulation formal preamble, "I am ready."

The miser said nothing in reply for a minute or two. He kept