UNCLE ABNER, MASTER OF MYSTERIES: 18 Detective Tales in One Volume. Melville Davisson Post
deed in fee," he said, "for all these lands...to my brother's children. The legal terms are right: 'Doth grant, with covenants of general warranty.'...It is well drawn, Abner; but I am not pleased to 'grant.'"
"Gaul," said Abner, "there are certain reasons that may move you."
The hunchback smiled.
"They must be very excellent to move a man to alienate his lands."
"Excellent they are," said Abner. "I shall mention the best one first."
"Do," said Gaul, and his grotesque face was merry.
"It is this," said Abner: "You have no heirs. Your brother's son is now a man; he should marry a wife and rear up children to possess these lands. And, as he is thus called upon to do what you cannot do, Gaul, he should have the things you have, to use."
"That's a very pretty reason, Abner," said the hunchback, "and it does you honor; but I know a better."
"What is it, Gaul?" said Abner.
The hunchback grinned. "Let us say, my pleasure!"
Then he struck his bootleg with his great black stick.
"And now," he cried, "who's back of this tomfoolery?"
"I am," said Abner.
The hunchback's heavy brows shot down. He was not disturbed, but he knew that Abner moved on no fool's errand.
"Abner," he said, "you have some reason for this thing. What is it?"
"I have several reasons for it," replied Abner, "and I gave you the best one first."
"Then the rest are not worth the words to say them in," cried Gaul.
"You are mistaken there," replied Abner; "I said that I would give you the best reason, not the strongest...Think of the reason I have given. We do not have our possessions in fee in this world, Gaul, but upon lease and for a certain term of service. And when we make default in that service the lease abates and a new man can take the title."
Gaul did not understand and he was wary.
"I carry out my brother's will," he said.
"But the dead," replied Abner, "cannot retain dominion over things. There can be no tenure beyond a life estate. These lands and chattels are for the uses of men as they arrive. The needs of the living overrule the devises of the dead."
Gaul was watching Abner closely. He knew that this was some digression, but he met it with equanimity. He put his big, hairy fingers together and spoke with a judicial air.
"Your argument," he said, "is without a leg to stand on. It is the dead who govern. Look you, man, how they work their will upon us! Who have made the laws? The dead! Who have made the customs that we obey and that form and shape our lives? The dead! And the titles to our lands-have not the dead devised them?...If a surveyor runs a line he begins at some corner that the dead set up; and if one goes to law upon a question the judge looks backward through his books until he finds out how the dead have settled it-and he follows that. And all the writers, when they would give weight and authority to their opinions, quote the dead; and the orators and all those who preach and lecture-are not their mouths filled with words that the dead have spoken? Why, man, our lives follow grooves that the dead have run out with their thumbnails!"
He got on his feet and looked at Abner. "What my brother has written in his will I will obey," he said. "Have you seen that paper, Abner?"
"I have not," said Abner, "but I have read the copy in the county clerk's book. It bequeathed these lands to you."
The hunchback went over to an old secretary standing against the wall. He pulled it open, got out the will and a pack of letters and brought them to the fire. He laid the letters on the table beside Abner's deed and held out the will.
Abner took the testament and read it.
"Do you know my brother's writing?" said Gaul.
"I do," said Abner.
'Then you know he wrote that will."
"He did," said Abner. "It is in Enoch's hand." Then he added: "But the date is a month before your brother came here."
"Yes," said Gaul; "it was not written in this house. My brother sent it to me. See-here is the envelope that it came in, postmarked on that date."
Abner took the envelope and compared the date. "It is the very day," he said, "and the address is in Enoch's hand."
"It is," said Gaul; "when my brother had set his signature to this will he addressed that cover. He told me of it." The hunchback sucked in his cheeks and drew down his eyelids. "Ah, yes," he said, "my brother loved me!"
"He must have loved you greatly," replied Abner, "to thus disinherit his own flesh and blood."
"And am not I of his own flesh and blood too?" cried the hunchback. "The strain of blood in my brother runs pure in me; in these children it is diluted. Shall not one love his own blood first?"
"Love!" echoed Abner. "You speak the word, Gaul-but do you understand it?"
"I do," said Gaul; "for it bound my brother to me."
"And did it bind you to him?" said Abner.
I could see the hunchback's great white eyelids drooping and his lengthened face.
"We were like David and Jonathan," he said. "I would have given my right arm for Enoch and he would have died for me."
"He did!" said Abner.
I saw the hunchback start, and, to conceal the gesture, he stooped and thrust the trunk of the apple tree a little farther into the fireplace. A cloud of sparks sprang up. A gust of wind caught the loose sash in the casement behind us and shook it as one, barred out and angry, shakes a door. When the hunchback rose Abner had gone on.
"If you loved your brother like that," he said, "you will do him this service-you will sign this deed."
"But, Abner," replied Gaul, "such was not my brother's will. By the law, these children will inherit at my death. Can they not wait?"
"Did you wait?" said Abner.
The hunchback flung up his head.
"Abner," he cried, "what do you mean by that?" And he searched my uncle's face for some indicatory sign; but there was no sign there-the face was stern and quiet.
"I mean," said Abner, "that one ought not to have an interest in another's death."
"Why not?" said Gaul.
"Because," replied Abner, "one may be tempted to step in before the providence of God and do its work for it."
Gaul turned the innuendo with a cunning twist.
"You mean," he said, "that these children may come to seek my death?"
I was astonished at Abner's answer.
"Yes," he said; "that is what I mean."
"Man," cried the hunchback, "you make me laugh!"
"Laugh as you like," replied Abner; "but I am sure that these children will not look at this thing as we have looked at it."
"As who have looked at it?" said Gaul.
"As my brother Rufus and Elnathan Stone and I," said Abner.
"And so," said the hunchback, "you gentlemen have considered how to save my life. I am much obliged to you." He made a grotesque, mocking bow. "And how have you meant to save it?"
"By the signing of that deed," said Abner.
"I thank you!" cried the hunchback. "But I am not pleased to save my life that way."
I thought Abner would give some biting answer; but, instead, he spoke slowly and with a certain hesitation.
"There is no other way," he said. "We have believed that the stigma of your death and the odium on the name and all the scandal