"Two thousand a year," he repeated calmly. "It was really as much as that, was it? Your brother had, I believe, once mentioned the amount to me. I had no idea, though, that it was quite so large." "I am his heir," the young man declared feverishly. "I'll take my oath there's no one else. I'm going to take out letters of administration. He hadn't another relation on God's earth." Mr. Bentham regarded the young man thoughtfully. "Have you any idea, Mr. Barnes," he asked, "as to the source of this income?" "Of course I haven't," Barnes answered. "That's why we're here. You must know something about it." "Your brother was not my client," the lawyer said slowly. "If his death had not been quite so sudden, I think that he might have been. As it is, I know very little of his affairs. I am afraid that I can be of very little use to you." "You must know something," Barnes declared doggedly. "You must tell us what you do know." "Your brother was," Mr. Bentham said, "a very remarkable man. Has it never occurred to you, Mr. Barnes, that this two thousand a year might have been money received in payment of services rendered--might have been, in short, in the nature of a salary?" "Not likely," Barnes answered, contemptuously. "Morris did no work at all. He did nothing but just enjoy himself and spend money." "Nothing but enjoy himself and spend money," Mr. Bentham repeated. "Ah! Did you see a great deal of your brother during the last few years?" "I saw nothing of him at all. I was out in South Africa. I have only just got back. Not but that I'd been here long ago," the young man added, with a note of exasperation in his tone, "if I'd had any idea of the luck he was in. Why, I lent him a bit to come back with, though I was only earning thirty bob a week, and the brute only sent it me back in bits, and not a farthing over." "That was not considerate of him," Mr. Bentham agreed--"not at all considerate. Your brother had the command of considerable sums of money. In fact, Mr. Barnes, I may tell you, without any breach of confidence, I think that if he had kept his appointment with me on the night when he was murdered, I was prepared, on behalf of my client, to hand him a cheque for ten thousand pounds!" Barnes struck the table before him with his clenched fist. "For what?" he cried, hysterically. "Ten thousand pounds for what?" "Your brother," Mr. Bentham said calmly, "was possessed of securities which were worth that much or even more to my client." "And where are they now?" Barnes gasped. "I do not know," Mr. Bentham answered. "If you can find them, I think it very likely that my client might make you a similar offer." It was the first ray of hope. Barnes moistened his dry lips with his tongue, and drew a long breath. "Securities!" he muttered. "What sort of securities?"