in his only sitting-room one evening when he rose to my lure. His niece had gone to bed.
We had just finished a game, which I allowed him to win, and I got up as if to leave, when he stopped me, and said, "One moment, doctor; I have come to look upon you as a very honest and straightforward man." And he continued, "You have told me that sooner or later one of these horrible attacks of mine may be the end of me. I must, I suppose, make a will, and I want your assistance."
I had always treated him, during these attacks, with nitro-glycerine, but had never told him the name of the remedy or given him a prescription, in order, of course, to keep up a regular attendance upon him.
I mention this as a prelude to the incidents which occurred later.
"My dear Mr. Stone," I said, "of course if I can be of any use to you, I am always at your service."
"I felt sure you would help me, doctor," replied the old man. "Now I've been a saving man all my fife, and I've gold—gold I say—hidden. It is to go to my niece,—to Polly, but I want no lawyers prying round, and, mark you, no death duties. You shall
