affairs with the Utmost secrecy. Especially, ser, were we required to
Keep you in the dark as to the real--"

"Just a moment, sir," interrupted Mr. Bingle, sitting up very
straight, and staring. "May I ask one questions? Are you sure you
haven't got my Uncle Joe confused with another Joseph Hooper? To my
certain knowledge, he had no transactions with lawyers while staying
at my house. You've got the wrong man, sir, I--" "I've got the right
man, Mr. Bingle," said the lawyer, with a smile. "Your uncle was a
strange man. Have you never heard of Joseph H. Grimwell?"

"Certainly. Every one has heard of him."

"Well, your uncle was Joseph H. Grimwell, the millionaire mine-owner
and lumber king. For fifteen years the name of Joseph Grimwell took
the place of--I beg your pardon! I did not mean to put it so abruptly,
sir. Calm yourself! I--"

"All right," said Mr. Bingle, suddenly collapsing into the chair after
struggling to his feet, his eyes bulging. "All right. I'm--I'm calm.
Go on with the story. You can't expect me to believe it, however. How
on earth could poor old Uncle Joe Hooper, who was actually starving
when he came to me last--"

"That is the best part of the story, Mr. Bingle," said Sigsbee,
settling back in his chair and linking his plump hands benevolently
across his expansive and somewhat overhanging waistcoat. "That is the
best part of the story, sir."