As, until then, no one had known of the disappearance of the will, except the lawyer and the secretary, it came as a thunderbolt.
"I have no explanation to offer," said Mr. Randolph, looking greatly concerned, but free of all personal responsibility. "Mr.
Crawford always kept the will in his own possession. When he came to see me, the last evening he was alive, in regard to making a new will, he did not bring the old one with him. We arranged to meet in his office the next morning to draw up the new instrument, when he doubtless expected to destroy the old one.
He may have destroyed it on his return home that evening. I do not know. But so far it has not been found among his papers in either of his offices or in the bank. Of course it may appear, as the search, though thorough, has not yet been exhaustive. We will, therefore, hold the matter in abeyance a few days, hoping to find the missing document."
His hearers were variously affected by this news. Florence Lloyd was simply dazed. She could not seem to grasp a situation which so suddenly changed her prospects. For she well knew that in the event of no will being found, Joseph Crawford's brother would be his rightful heir, and she would be legally entitled to nothing at all.
Philip Crawford sat with an utterly expressionless face. Quite able to control his emotion, if he felt any, he made no sign that he welcomed this possibility of a great fortune unexpectedly coming to him.
Lemuel Porter, who, with his wife, had remained because of their close friendship with the family, spoke out rather abruptly "Find it! Of course it must be found! It's absurd to think the man destroyed one will before the other was drawn."
"I agree with you," said Philip Crawford.
"Joseph was very methodical in his habits, and, besides, I doubt if he would really have changed his will. I think he merely threatened it, to see if Florence persisted in keeping her engagement."
This was a generous speech on the part of Philip Crawford. To be sure, generosity of speech couldn't affect the disposal of the estate. If no will were found, it must by law go to the brother, but none the less the hearty, whole-souled way in which he spoke of Miss Lloyd was greatly to his credit as a man.
"I think so, too," agreed Mr. Porter. "As you know, I called on Mr. Joseph Crawford during the - the last evening of his life."
The speaker paused, and indeed it must have been a sad remembrance that pictured itself to his mind.
"Did he then refer to the matter of the will?" asked Mr.
Randolph, in gentle tones.
"He did. Little was said on the subject, but he told me that unless Florence consented to his wishes in the matter of her engagement to Mr. Hall, he would make a new will, leaving her only a small bequest."
"In what manner did you respond, Mr. Porter?"
"I didn't presume to advise him definitely, but I urged him not to be too hard on the girl, and, at any rate, not to make a new will until he had thought it over more deliberately."
"What did he then say?"
"Nothing of any definite import. He began talking of other matters, and the will was not again referred to. But I can't help thinking he had not destroyed it."
At this, Miss Lloyd seemed about to speak, but, glancing at Gregory Hall, she gave a little sigh, and remained silent.
"You know of nothing that can throw any light on the matter of the will, Mr. Hall?" asked Mr. Randolph.
"No, sir. Of course this whole situation is very embarrassing for me. I can only say that I have known for a long time the terms of Mr. Crawford's existing will; I have known of his threats of changing it; I have known of his attitude toward my engagement to his niece. But I never spoke to him on any of these subjects, nor he to me, though several times I have thought he was on the point of doing so. I have had access to most of his private papers, but of two or three small boxes he always retained the keys. I had no curiosity concerning the contents of these boxes, but I naturally assumed his will was in one of them.
I have, however, opened these boxes since Mr. Crawford's death, in company with Mr. Randolph, and we found no will. Nor could we discover any in the New York office or in the bank. That is all I know of the matter."
Gregory Hall's demeanor was dignified and calm, his voice even and, indeed, cold. He was like a bystander, with no vital interest in the subject he talked about.
Knowing, as I did, that his interest was vital, I came to the conclusion that he was a man of unusual self-control, and an ability to mask his real feelings completely. Feeling that nothing more could be learned at present, I left the group in the library discussing the loss of the will, and went down to the district attorney's office.
He was, of course, surprised at my news, and agreed with me that it gave us new fields for conjecture.
"Now, we see," he said eagerly, "that the motive for the murder was the theft of the will."
"Not necessarily," I replied. "Mr. Crawford may have destroyed the will before he met his death."
"But that would leave no motive. No, the will supplies the motive. Now, you see, this frees Miss Lloyd from suspicion. She would have no reason to kill her uncle and then destroy or suppress a will in her own favor."
"That reasoning also frees Mr. Hall from suspicion," said I, reverting to my former theories.
"Yes, it does. We must look for the one who has benefited by the removal of the will. That, of course, would be the brother, Mr.
Philip Crawford."
I looked at the attorney a moment, and then burst into laughter.
