“I do,” with quiet finality. “Who is residuary legatee?” “I am.” “Then you benefit by the signing of that codicil?” “Certainly; what then?” “Chichester Barnard can easily retaliate by charging you with using undue influence in persuading his aunt to revoke her bequest to him.” The Admiral choked with wrath. “One hundred thousand dollars--um!--men have done much to gain that sum. How do I know you haven’t trumped up this codicil charge against Marjorie Langdon as a means to break the will?” “D--mn my soul!” stormed the Admiral, getting back his breath. “D’ye think I’m a dirty blackguard? My lawyer, Alvord, who drew up the codicil on October 31, is waiting to see me; come on in and interview him now.” “Where do you live?” “In that house on the corner.” As Duncan’s gaze swept over the unpretentious red-brick, stone-trimmed residence, his eyes encountered those of a darky butler who was anxiously regarding them from the open doorway. The chords of memory were touched, and a mental picture rose before Duncan’s eyes. Abruptly he swung back to the Admiral. “You say the codicil was drawn and signed on October 31; when did you first discover its loss?” “The morning of November first....” “Let us go in and see Alvord,” interrupted Duncan, a strange light in his eyes. Without further words the Admiral led the way to the English basement house. “Mr. Alvord’s been awaitin’ mos’ an hour, suh,” explained the butler, assisting them off with their overcoats. “He axed me ter watch out an’ ax yo’ ter hurry, ’cause he’s awful busy.” “Very well, Sam; where is Mr. Alvord?” “In de lib’ry, suh.” “This way, Duncan,” and the Admiral piloted his guest to the pleasant room where Marjorie had spent so many hours. An elderly man rose on their entrance. “Sorry to have kept you, Alvord,” apologized the Admiral. “This is Mr. Duncan Fordyce. Kindly tell him in detail of the signing of the codicil to my wife’s will.” Alvord glanced in some astonishment at his client; then followed his request, and Duncan listened with close attention as he described having Marjorie typewrite the codicil, making two copies, and the signing of the original copy by Mrs. Lawrence. “Admiral Lawrence requested me to leave the signed codicil here, and instructed Miss Langdon to place it in the safe,” he ended. “I gave her the paper....” “Could you take your solemn oath that you gave her the _signed_ copy?” “I am willing to swear that to the best of my recollection I gave her the signed codicil....” “That’s an equivocation,” challenged Duncan promptly. “Well, what difference does it make? Only the unsigned codicil turned up next morning. I left a codicil, signed or unsigned, on this desk--she could have stolen it a deal easier from the desk.” “Exactly where did you place the paper?” questioned Duncan. “On this side of the desk nearest the window,” Alvord indicated the spot with his hand.