Then, slowly and painfully, the old man dictated a new will. “I have to make it simple,” he said. The new will left Joan the whole of his fortune, with the request that she should pay to all persons mentioned in the previous will, and still living, the sums there left to them, except that no sum should be paid to Carter Woodman. A further clause appointed Joan and Henry Lucas joint executors, and a third, an after-thought, provided for the payment of a small annuity to Helen Woodman. “There is no need for her to suffer for what he has done,” said Sir Vernon. Two of the servants were then called in to witness the will, and Joan, at Sir Vernon’s command, took it downstairs and had it placed at once in the office safe of the Brooklyn Corporation. “I am easier now in my mind,” said the old man, as Joan returned from her errand. “You will have to carry on the Brooklyn tradition now, Joan,” he added. Joan took his hand, and sat by him, and, in a few minutes he fell asleep. Joan sat by his side for a while. Then she quietly disengaged her hand, and left him sleeping. He was tired out; but she believed the exertion had done him good. In the lounge Joan found Ellery, in a high state of excitement. “News, darling,” he said. “I have news for you, and it shows that I was right.” “I have some news for you, too, my boy. It’s a most extraordinary thing that has happened. I’m not so sure as I was that you were wrong.” “I think my news makes it simply certain I was right.” “Bob, Sir Vernon has made a new will, cutting out Carter.” “My dear, you don’t mean to say he suspects?” “No, of course he doesn’t; but this morning we found out that Carter and my stepfather are trying—the two of them—to raise money on the strength of the will.” “Good Lord, how did you find out that?” “A letter came to Sir Vernon from Sir John Bunnery, saying Woodman had approached him in confidence for a loan of sixty thousand pounds, on the joint security of his and my stepfather’s expectations. He said my stepfather had made him his heir.” “Made whom?” “Why, Carter. So that he stood to get the money any way.” Ellery whistled. “My word, the plot thickens. And now let me tell you my news.” And so the two lovers exchanged their information. Joan, in her anger against Carter Woodman, was now a good deal easier to convince. She admitted at once the force of Ellery’s evidence. If Woodman had lied, it was not likely that he had lied for nothing. Her anger for the time prevented her from realising the full horror of the position; but presently it came home to her. “Oh, poor Helen,” she said, “what _are_ we to do? It will break her heart.” “My dear we must clear this thing up now. We can’t leave it where it stands. You see that.” Joan pulled herself together. “Yes, I suppose we have to go through with it.” “And find positive proof.” “I suppose we must go on.”