together with such other documents as might refer to the affairs of the dead man, and to seal all cupboards, doors, and safes.
“Oh! here you are,” said Captain Redfern. “What a deuce of a time you've been! Now, we'll get the will and other papers, and then you must come down with them to Russell Square, and deliver them into Mrs. Pintle's custody.”
Poor Johnny opened the office door with some difficulty, for his hand shook violently, and his eyes were blinded with big tears. Although he winked and blinked hard at them, they couldn't take the hint, but rolled down his face until their identity was lost in that of the melting snow on his woollen comforter.
“Mr. Pintle's will, sir, is in this box; shall I take it to Russell Square, sir, or unlock it here?”
“Better open it now,” said Captain Redfern; “Mrs. Pintle is, of course, greatly distressed, and would be unable to attend to it at present. Open it; will you?”
The box was opened, but no will was there; and the papers it contained referred only to mortgages effected upon his real property. Poor Johnny stood utterly dismayed, as he had a perfect recollection of having seen Mr. Pintle place it there a few days before his death.
“There is no will here, sir, and, yet, he always told me to look here for it if ever he was carried off suddenly. What's more, I saw him put it in here not three days ago. It was the day before yesterday when he kindly added a codicil, which increased the sum he was good enough to leave to me, sir; I'm his confidential clerk, sir, and have been for fifteen years, and he'd have told me if”
