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