“You don't say! And it all goes to her?” “Yes.” Gibbs moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “I didn't know the old fellow was so well off,” he said at last. Benson shrugged his shoulders. The sordidness of the whole affair disgusted him. “You don't ask any questions about her—I mean Mrs. Gibbs.” “I am not curious.” “Oh, come, she's a relative of yours, and the very last thing she said to me was, 'Tell Jake I am quite happy.'” But Benson seemed quite untouched by this mark of affection. “Naturally you'll take an interest in her affairs.” “Naturally I'll take in them no interest at all,” said Benson with much deliberation. “A very uncousinly attitude on your part; and one to be deplored,” responded the captain, smiling and unabashed. “Where is Mrs. Tucker?” asked Benson. “Mrs. Gibbs,” corrected the captain reproachfully. “Mrs. Gibbs, then—where is she?” “She is in St. Louis,” said the captain. “We didn't know of Tucker's death until a month ago. Lucky we heard of it when we did, for if we hadn't, we should have been on our way to California as soon as the season opened; this will change our plans. There is no use going to California for what we can get nearer at hand, and with much less trouble; and it won't come amiss; your cousin is altogether lacking in Benson thrift.” “She is not a Benson.” “Well, that's so, too,” admitted the captain. He stared into the fire in silence for a moment; a smile hovered about the comers of his mouth. He was thinking of this windfall, old Tucker's money, as he squinted and blinked at the dancing flames. At last he roused from his revery; a sigh of deep content burst from his swelling chest. “I suppose it will be best for her to dispose of the property here?” he said. The lawyer nodded slightly. Gibbs laughed. “Oh, come now, Jake, wherever he is, Tuckers all right; God Almighty makes it up to the losers, I'm Christian enough to think that; so you'd better thaw out and take stock with the living. I'm happy clean through! I'd be an infernal cheat to pretend otherwise.” “What do you wish me to do?” asked Benson coldly. “Oh, come nearer to the fire, or your words will freeze to your lips. Let out a tuck in your morals, man; be human; be glad with me!” “What do you wish me to do?” repeated Benson sternly. “Wishing don't seem to do any good,” said the captain plaintively. “In enlightened society, to be the father of a baby, to be elected to a public office, or to inherit money—means whisky.” “Not here,” said Benson shortly. “So I discover,” said the captain. “The customs of refined society are in abeyance here. Next time I come, I'll bring a jug.” “If there is a next time,” said Benson angrily. “That poor old man you led to his death was my friend—” “You needn't rub that in,” said Gibbs, his cheeks paling. “Do you suppose I'd have let him drown if I'd known what was going on? I didn't know it until months afterward. Don't speak of that again, I won't have it!”