“Mr. Wilton is claimant to a large property in Devonshire and elsewhere,” said Chewkle. “As I have been concerned for Mr. Grahame, of course you know I am aware of that.” Nathan Gomer nodded. “It is about that property I want to speak to you, sir,” he added. “Go on,” observed Nathan, drily. “I have some information about it--some information very important to Mr. Wilton, I can assure you.” “Ha! hem! Have you had a quarrel with Mr. Grahame?” inquired Nathan, sharply. “Quarrel, sir? No, sir,” returned Chewkle. “He’s a very good friend to me, he is.” “How will this information of which you speak affect his interest with regard to his claim to the Devonshire property?” asked Nathan Gomer, regarding Chewkle with a fixed gaze. “Floor him there, sir,” responded Chewkle; “quite knock him out of time.” “Yet, my good Chewkle, you suggest that he is your very kind friend--eh?” “So for the matter o’ that he is, sir. But you, sir, are a man of the world--I says a distinguished man of the world--am I right?” “I am prepared to concede that point to save time,” responded Nathan Gomer, with a grin. “Well, sir, the very vallyble information I possess couldn’t make Mr. Grahame inherit that property, though he still prefers a claim to it, but it will actually put Mr. Wilton into possession of it.” “What?” “It will completely establish his claim to it!” exclaimed Chewkle, striking the table with his fist, adding, “That’s information worth having, I should think.” “Clearly,” said Nathan Gomer, coolly. “Mr Wilton has had in his day many such offers, but they turned out moonshine, all of them. How is he to know that your information is any better than that which has already proved worthless?” “’Cos I’ll explain why, in a very few words,” answered Chewkle. “Do so,” said Nathan. “You know, sir, p’raps better than I do, that the marriage of Mr. Wilton’s father and mother is a pint in dispute.” “I do.” “That their register of marriage was cut out o’ the parish book, and the cetiffykit has never been found; but it was supposed to be in the possession of a cousin, who has a claim to some part of the property.” “Very true--very correct,” responded Gomer, still cool, but nevertheless edging his chair a little closer to Chewkle. “Now this man disappeared many years ago.” “He did, good Chewkle.” “And if he can be found and produced, all the property will become Mr. Wilton’s.” “I don’t quite see the force of that conclusion, friend Chewkle.” “Don’t you? Look here--this man Maybee----” “Ha! Maybee--that is his name.” “Yes, Maybee. This Maybee----” “John Maybee, I think?” “No, Joshua Maybee.” “Oh, Joshua--ah! yes--Joshua.” “The old fellow, among his pals in Spike Hotel, is called Josh Maybee.” “To be sure, very probable; go on, good Chewkle,” said Nathan Gomer, with glittering eyes and a glowing face, but just now without a grin upon his features.