"That's nice," says I. "And maybe sometime or other you can tell us what it's all about?"
"At once," says he. "You are named as co-executors with me for the estate of the late Curtis B. Gordon."
At which J. Bayard gasps. "I?" says he. "An executor for Pyramid Gordon?"
Judson nods. "I understand," says he, "that you were--ah--not on friendly terms with Mr. Gordon. But he was a somewhat unusual man, you know. In this instance, for example, he has selected Professor McCabe, whom he designates as one of his most trusted friends, and yourself, whom he designates as his--ah--oldest enemy. No offense, I hope?"
"Quite accurate, so far as I am concerned," says Steele.
"Very well," says the lawyer. "Then I may read the terms of his will that he wishes us to carry out."
And, believe me, even knowin' some of the odd streaks of Pyramid Gordon the way I did, this last and final sample had me bug-eyed before Judson got through! It starts off straight enough, with instructions to deal out five thousand here and ten there, to various parties,--his old office manager, his man Minturn, that niece of his out in Denver, and so on. But when it come to his scheme for disposin' of the bulk of his pile--well, just lemme sketch it for you!
Course, I can't give it to you the way Pyramid had it put down; but here was the gen'ral plan: Knowin' he had to take the count, he'd been chewin' things over. He wa'n't squealin', or tryin' to square himself either here or beyond. He'd lived his own life in his own way, and he was standin' pat on his record. He knew he'd put over some raw deals; but the same had been handed to him. Maybe he'd hit back at times harder'n he'd been hit. If he had, he wa'n't sorry. He'd only played the game accordin' to the rules he knew.
Still, now that it was most over, he had in mind a few cases where he'd always meant to sort of even things up if he could. There was certain parties he'd thrown the hooks into kind of deep maybe, durin' the heat of the scrap; and afterwards, from time to time, he'd thought he might have a chance to do 'em a good turn,--help 'em back to their feet again, or something like that. But somehow, with bein' so busy, and kind of out of practice at that sort of thing, he'd never got around to any of 'em. So now he was handin' over the job to us, all in a lump.