“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Maitland.” She watched his frightened scrutiny of the grounds, and then he bent over toward her. “Them fellows will get me,” he said slowly and impressively. “They’ll get me, _and_ Matilda. And I’ve left all my money to a certain person. That’s the joke. That’s the whole joke of it, miss.” He chuckled wheezily. “And then they’ll get him.” He slapped his knee, convulsed with silent laughter, and the girl honestly thought he was mad and edged away from him. “But I’ve got a great idea—got it when I saw you. It’s one of the greatest ideas I’ve ever had, miss. Are you a typewriter?” “A typist?” she smiled. “No, I can type, but I’m not a very good typist.” His voice sank until it was almost unintelligible. “You come up to my office one day, and we’ll have a great joke. Wouldn’t think I was a joker, would you? Eighty-seven I am, miss. You come up to my office and I’ll make you laugh!” Suddenly he became more serious. “They’ll get me—I know it. I haven’t told Matilda, because she’d start screaming. But _I_ know. _And_ the baby!” This seemed to afford the saturnine old man the greatest possible enjoyment. He rocked from side to side with mirth, until a fit of coughing attacked him. “That’s all, miss. You come up to my office. Old Johnson isn’t there. You come up and see me. Never had a letter from me, have you?” he suddenly asked, as he rose. “No, Mr. Maitland,” she said in surprise. “There was one wrote,” said he. “Maybe I didn’t post it. Maybe I thought better. I dunno.” He started and drew back as a figure appeared before the house. “Who’s that?” he asked, and she felt a hand on her arm that trembled. “That is my father, Mr. Maitland,” she said. “I expect he got a little nervous about my being out.” “Your father, eh?” He was more relieved than resentful. “Mr. John Bennett, his name is, by all accounts. Don’t tell him I’ve been in the workhouse,” he urged, “or in quod. And I have been in quod, miss. Met all the big men, every one of ’um. And met a few of ’um out, too. I bet I’m the only man in this country that’s ever seen Saul Morris, the grandest feller in the business. Only met him once, but I shall never forget him.” John Bennett saw them pacing toward him, and stood undecided as to whether he should join them or whether Ella would be embarrassed by such a move. Maitland decided the matter by hobbling over to him. “Morning, mister,” he said. “Just having a talk to your gel. Rather early in the morning, eh? Hope you don’t mind, Mr. Bennett.” “I don’t mind,” said John Bennett. “Won’t you come inside, Mr. Maitland?” “No, no, no,” said the other fearfully. “I’ve got to get on. Matilda will be waiting for me. Don’t forget, miss: come up to my office and have that joke!” He did not offer to shake hands, nor did he take off his hat. In fact, his manners were deplorable. A curt nod to the girl, and then: