Jimmy had a way of choosing his words, hesitating for the exact expression that would best convey every shade of his meaning. The lawyer, too, recognized the logic of the speech, and contented himself with a shrug which meant nothing. “I do not inquire into your motives,” Jimmy resumed; “it pleases me to believe that they are entirely disinterested, that your attitude is the ideal one as between client and agent.” His pause was longer this time, and the lawyer was piqued into interjecting an impatient-- “Well?” “Well,” said Jimmy slowly, “believing all this, let us say, I am at a loss to know why at the reading of the will you gave us no indication of the existence of a key to this mysterious verse.” “There is no key,” said the lawyer quickly, and added, “so far as I know.” “That you did not tell us,” Jimmy went on, as though unconscious of any interruption, “of the big red envelope----” Spedding sprang to his feet white as death. “The envelope,” he stammered angrily, “what do you know--what envelope?” Jimmy’s hand waved him to his seat. “Let us have no emotions, no flights, no outraged honor, I beg of you, dear Mr. Spedding. I do not suggest that you have any sinister reasons for withholding information concerning what my friend Angel would call the ‘surprise packet.’ In good time I do not doubt you would have disclosed its existence.” “I know of no red envelope,” said the lawyer doggedly. “I rather fancied you would say that,” said Jimmy, with a touch of admiration in his tone. “You are not the sort of fox to curl up and howl at the first bay of the hound--if you will permit the simile--indeed, you would have disappointed me if you had.” The lawyer paced the room. “Look here,” he said, coming to a halt before the semi-recumbent form that lay behind a haze of cigarette smoke in the arm-chair, “you’ve spent a great deal of your time telling me what I am, describing my many doubtful qualities, and hinting more or less broadly that I am a fairly representative scoundrel. May I ask what is your ultimate object? Is it blackmail?” he demanded harshly. “No,” said Jimmy, by no means disconcerted by the brutality of the question. “Are you begging, or borrowing, or----” “Stealing?” murmured Jimmy lazily. “All that I have to say to you is, finish your business and go. Furthermore, you are at liberty to come with me to-morrow morning and search my office and question my clerks. I will accompany you to my banks, and to the strong-room I rent at the deposit. Search for this red envelope you speak about, and if you find it, you are at liberty to draw the worst deductions you will.” Jimmy pulled gently at his cigarette with reflective eyes cast upward to the ceiling. “Do you speak Spanish?” he asked. “No,” said the other impatiently.