"And the sentimental feelings which he is guided by prompt him to keep it, to the inconvenience of himself and every one else." Mr Farquhar gave up the subject of the watch as hopeless. "But about this letter. I wrote, at Mr Benson's desire, to the Insurance Office, and I am not satisfied with this answer. All the transaction has passed through our hands. I do not think it is likely Mr Benson would write and sell the shares without, at any rate, informing us at the time, even though he forgot all about it afterwards." "Probably he told Richard, or Mr Watson." "We can ask Mr Watson at once. I am afraid we must wait till Richard comes home, for I don't know where a letter would catch him." Mr Bradshaw pulled the bell that rang into the head-clerk's room, saying as he did so, "You may depend upon it, Farquhar, the blunder lies with Benson himself. He is just the man to muddle away his money in indiscriminate charity, and then to wonder what has become of it." Mr Farquhar was discreet enough to hold his tongue. "Mr Watson," said Mr Bradshaw, as the old clerk made his appearance, "here is some mistake about those Insurance shares we purchased for Benson ten or a dozen years ago. He spoke to Mr Farquhar about some bonus they are paying to the shareholders, it seems; and, in reply to Mr Farquhar's letter, the Insurance Company say the shares were sold twelve months since. Have you any knowledge of the transaction? Has the transfer passed through your hands? By the way" (turning to Mr Farquhar), "who kept the certificates? Did Benson or we?" "I really don't know," said Mr Farquhar. "Perhaps Mr Watson can tell us." Mr Watson meanwhile was studying the letter. When he had ended it, he took off his spectacles, wiped them, and replacing them, he read it again. "It seems very strange, sir," he said at length, with his trembling, aged voice, "for I paid Mr Benson the account of the dividends myself last June, and got a receipt in form, and that is since the date of the alleged transfer." "Pretty nearly twelve months after it took place," said Mr Farquhar. "How did you receive the dividends? An order on the Bank, along with old Mrs Cranmer's?" asked Mr Bradshaw, sharply. "I don't know how they came. Mr Richard gave me the money, and desired me to get the receipt." "It's unlucky Richard is from home," said Mr Bradshaw. "He could have cleared up this mystery for us." Mr Farquhar was silent. "Do you know where the certificates were kept, Mr Watson?" said he. "I'll not be sure, but I think they were with Mrs Cranmer's papers and deeds in box A, 24." "I wish old Cranmer would have made any other man his executor. She, too, is always coming with some unreasonable request or other." "Mr Benson's inquiry about his bonus is perfectly reasonable, at any rate." Mr Watson, who was dwelling in the slow fashion of age on what had been said before, now spoke: