He found plenty of work awaiting him in his office. Foremost in
interest was an invitation to be present at the search which was to be
instituted that afternoon in the premises of the Widow Wakeham. The will
of which he had been made Executor, having been admitted to probate, it
had been considered advisable to have an inventory made of the personal
effects of the deceased, and this day had been set apart for the
purpose. To meet this appointment he hurried all the rest, and at the
hour set, he found himself before the broken gate and gardens of the
ruinous old house in Flatbush. There was a crowd already gathered there,
and as he made his appearance he was greeted by a loud murmur which
amply proved that his errand was known. At the door he was met by the
two Appraisers appointed by the Surrogate, and within he found one or
two workmen hob-nobbing with a detective from police headquarters.
The house looked barer and more desolate than ever. It was a sunshiny
day, and the windows having been opened, the pitiless rays streamed in
showing all the defects which time and misuse had created in the once
stately mansion. Not a crack in plastering or woodwork but stood forth
in bold relief that day, nor were the gaping holes in the flooring of
hall and parlor able to hide themselves any longer under the strips of
carpet with which Huckins had endeavored to conceal them.
"Shall we begin with the lower floor?" asked one of the workmen, poising
the axe he had brought with him.
The Appraisers bowed, and the work of demolition began. As the first
sound of splitting boards rang through the empty house, a quick cry as
of a creature in pain burst from the staircase without, and they saw,
crouching there with trembling hands held out in protest, the meagre
form of Huckins.
"Oh, don't! don't!" he began; but before they could answer, he had
bounded down the stairs to where they stood and was looking with eager,
staring eyes into the hole which the workmen had made.
"Have you found anything?" he asked. "It is to be all mine, you know,
and the more you find the richer I'll be. Let's see--let's see, she may
have hidden something here, there is no knowing." And falling on his
knees he thrust his long arm into the aperture before him, just as Mr.
Dickey had seen him do in a similar case on the night of the old woman's
death.
But as his interference was not desired, he was drawn quietly back, and
was simply allowed to stand there and watch while the others proceeded
in their work. This he did with an excitement which showed itself in
alternate starts and sudden breathless gasps, which, taken with the
sickly smiles with which he endeavored to hide the frowns caused by his
natural indignation, made a great impression upon Frank, who had come to
regard him as a unique specimen in nature, something between a hyena and
a fox.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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