“But Sir Vernon may alter his will.”
These words of Woodman’s brought great comfort to Walter Brooklyn’s heart. They proved at least that, as the will stood, he would come in for a considerable sum on his brother’s death. He was emboldened to make a definite proposal.
“Look here, Woodman, you know what is in the will. I want you to advance me twenty thousand pounds at once on the strength of my expectations under it. There’s no risk, practically; what there is, I’m prepared to pay for. If you let me have twenty thousand now, you shall have thirty thousand when Sir Vernon dies.”
“Good heavens, do you think I’m rolling in money? If I had twenty thousand to spare I couldn’t risk it on a pure gamble like that. The odds are that Sir Vernon will alter his will, or you may die before he does. Where should I be then?”
“I should imagine in that case you would get a big slice of the money yourself.”
“But, really, that’s no reason why I should give it to you. What you propose is absurd.”
“You know very well, Woodman, that it is not absurd. But, if you don’t like my proposal, make one of your own. What I want is twenty thousand pounds and a regular income assured until old Vernon dies.”
“My word, you don’t want much,” was Woodman’s comment; but his brain was working actively. He was, in fact, in quite as dire straits for money as Walter Brooklyn himself. Lately, his position was worse; for heavy stock exchange speculation had brought him to the point of certain bankruptcy unless he could raise a considerable sum at once. His mind went to work on a definite scheme, which indeed he had conceived before ever he came to visit Walter Brooklyn. While he perfected his plan, he continued to protest the impossibility of doing what Walter suggested. Before making his proposal he wanted to be sure how far the man to whom he was speaking knew what Sir Vernon Brooklyn’s will contained. Twenty thousand pounds, he suggested, was a big sum to ask for on the strength of expectations under the will. He saw at once that this line of argument made Walter Brooklyn anxious, and before long he had convinced himself that Sir Vernon’s brother had no certain knowledge of the provisions of the will. Then he was ready to spring his audacious proposal.
“Look here, Brooklyn, I’ve been thinking it over, and we may be able to manage something. I’ll try to get you that twenty thousand pounds on condition that you make over to me one-half of your expectation under the will.”
“You’re asking me to buy a pig in a poke,” was Walter Brooklyn’s answer. “You know the details of the will, and I’m willing to tell you that I don’t. I can’t accept your terms; but I’m willing to pay you forty thousand pounds when I get the money if you let me have twenty down. Isn’t that a fair proportion?”
“Considering the risk, certainly not. But I’m willing to make an alternative suggestion. Under the will, Joan and Mrs. George Brooklyn are both amply provided for. The inheritance of the rest of Sir Vernon’s money probably lies between you and me, whether the will is altered or not. I suggest that we make an agreement to go equal shares in whatever is left to either of us. I add one condition, that you should draw up a new will, making me the heir to your estate.”
“You stand to get the lot that way, whatever happens. I can see that it is very nice indeed from your point of view. And what, may I ask, do you offer me in exchange?”
“Twenty thousand pounds down, which I can borrow on the strength of our joint expectations, and I’m willing to add two thousand a year until Sir Vernon dies. And in addition, I offer you the security that, even if Sir Vernon cuts you out of his will, you will still get your share of the money.”
“But, if Sir Vernon dies now—he’s pretty bad, they tell me—the effect of it will be that I shall be making you a pretty handsome present.”
“And I shall be presenting you with twenty thousand pounds in hard cash.”
They wrangled for some time longer; but Walter Brooklyn, in ignorance of the precise terms of the will, was at a serious disadvantage. Finally, he agreed to Carter Woodman’s terms; and Woodman at once sat down and drafted out a written agreement putting their compact into definite terms. He also drew up, in a few lines, a will constituting himself Walter Brooklyn’s heir.
“Now, we must get these documents signed and witnessed,” he said.
“There will be someone about downstairs,” said Brooklyn heavily. He had an uneasy feeling that he was being badly swindled; but twenty thousand pounds down was the main thing. Besides, he might find ways, though Woodman was a cute lawyer, of repudiating the bargain later, if it proved to his interest to do so.
There were two documents to be witnessed—the will and the agreement. The I.O.U., which was Woodman’s further security for the £20,000, would not, of course, be signed until the money was actually paid over. The two men went downstairs, found the night-porter and a waiter who had not yet gone to bed, and completed the two documents in their presence. Then, taking the will and his copy of the agreement, Woodman bade Walter Brooklyn good night, receiving a not very cordial response. His first business on the morrow would be to use the two documents and the joint expectation of the two men under Sir Vernon’s will, as a means of raising at once, not merely the £20,000 for Walter Brooklyn, but the much larger sum of which he himself stood immediately in need. He thought he knew a man who would let him have the money. If he failed, bankruptcy
