Where There's a Will

A Jack Dylan Adventure 

By Dixon Kinqade

I'd spent the whole day on a very noisy job. It was a job that involved a group of people who talked a lot, but said nothing. When I finally locked up my office for the night, I was completely exhausted. So I decided to take a little drive in the cool night air.

Slowly cruising along the street, I was pleased to have a little peace and quiet. At least, that's what I thought. However, when I pulled up to a stop sign just half a block away, something happened that brought my little dream of peace and quiet to an end. The car door, opposite me, flew open and something mighty excited jumped in!

"I'm being followed! Please, drive on!"

"Where to?"

"Anywhere, it doesn't matter."

"Okay, lady. Get a good grip on the upholstery."

I raced off into the night, taking a few random turns, and going no place in particular. After I was certain that no one had followed us, my sleek, little, black roadster rolled to a gentle halt. Turning to this mysterious and invited passenger, I finally got a good look at the lovely girl sitting beside me.

"Say, you look a little pale... and beautiful."

"I'm always pale when my heart's in my throat."

"Then why don't you swallow once, take a deep breath. and tell me who's following you?"

"There isn't much to tell. He's a nasty little man and that's all I know. Thanks for making like Mauri Rose, but I need to go. So, I bid you goodnight."

"Not so fast, lady! Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's impolite to hitch and run?"

"Look, Mister. Right now, I'm up to my earrings in trouble and that leaves very little time for small talk with strangers, even nice ones."

"In that case, the name's Dylan, Jack Dylan, which takes care of the stranger part. I'm also a private detective and that makes trouble my business. So, where should we go from here?"

"No place. Three hundred thousand dollars worth of bonds, a screwy old lady, and her two greedy nephews are too much for any one man to deal with, Mr. Dylan. So again, I thank you and wish you a good night."

Before I could say anything, she was out of the car and gone. She left me with only the heavy scent of taboo in the air and the memory of a gorgeous profile. Thinking of her jet-black hair and pale blue eyes, I sighed like a schoolboy and decided to put her under the heading of "things that pass in the night", but I couldn't. Why, of all the cars in the city, had she chosen to jump into mine?

The next morning, I shuffled down the street toward my office door and was still thinking about those pale blue eyes. Maybe that's why I didn't notice a man waiting outside the door until I was almost on top of him. He was well dressed, about thirty-five, and looked like a man who'd forgotten how to smile.

"Dylan?"

"That's right."

"I want to thank you for rescuing Barbara last night, Mr. Dylan. She told me all about it."

"Is that so? Come on in, Mister..."

"Shields, Edward Shields. Say, Dylan, would you be interested in aiding three people in a search for more than a quarter of a million dollars in bearer bonds? One percent of which will be yours, if the bonds are found."

"I certainly would."

"Splendid."

"What if the bonds aren't found, Mr. Shields? I'm not in the habit of working for free. I am running a business here, you know?"

"We are quite prepared to pay your customary fee in such an event. Is that arrangement satisfactory?"

"That's just fine. Now, how about a few more details?"

"Quite right, Mr. Dylan! My aunt, Bernice Mayfair, died and left her entire fortune to charity, with the exception of those bonds I mentioned. They are to be divided equally among the three of us. We three are the sole heirs, if we find them within twenty-four hours."

"That sounds like something you dream about after a midnight snack of cold pizza and tacos."

"Perhaps, but you didn't know my aunt. Besides myself, the beneficiaries are Barbara Haynes and Harlan Crane. Barbara is the girl you met last night. She was Aunt Bernice's personal secretary. Harlan is my cousin and happens to be a sculptor at the moment."

"Happens to be? At the moment?"

"Six months ago, he was a sailor. Before that, he was a writer without so much as a rejection slip to his name. My cousin is irresponsible, impetuous, and completely self..."

"I get the picture, Mr. Shields. Tell me, what exactly are the conditions of the will?"

"At precisely noon today, the three of us are to meet with Luther Willard, my beloved aunt's lawyer. He'll give us each a large sheet of tissue paper. Each sheet is covered with specific markings. Individually, the sheets mean absolutely nothing, but combined and layered one over the other, these transparent sheets form a coherent map to the location of the bonds."

"That's certainly clever, but why all the intrigue?"

"My dear departed aunt had a peculiar sense of humor. Additionally, she was never particularly fond of us. She was quite certain that our individual shortcomings would make cooperation between the three of us impossible, even for so short a period as twenty-four hours."

"And the man, who followed Ms. Hayes last night, convinced you that Aunt Bernice may have been right?"

"Convince me? No. He may have been nothing more than a purse-snatcher. Nevertheless, I feel that it's advisable to play it safe. A fourth party, a custodian of the map, should be employed to protect the interests of all concerned parties."

"That sounds reasonable. When shall I go to work, Mr. Shields?"

"Noon at the lawyer's office. However, I regret that first, you must be approved by the third heir. I don't like to ask this, Mr. Dylan, but would you mind, very much, calling on my cousin Harlan, personally?"

"Not at all. As a matter of fact, he may prove rather interesting."

"Entertaining possibly, but he's about as interesting as an ape in the zoo and almost as smart."

I felt like telling Shields that I'm not as gullible as I look. Then I thought, a client is a client, and decided to play along.

Harlan Crane was a six-foot, red-bearded giant and talked as he worked, wielding a ten-pound sculptor's mallet like it was an eighteenth-century quill.

"I'll be frank with you, Dylan. Money isn't everything to me. It never has been. However, one hundred thousand dollars will buy a lot of marble."

"That much dough would buy half the state of Vermont, I'd say. Coming to the point, Mr. Crane, do I get your seal of approval?"

"Oh, I imagine you'll be alright. Anyone who can get by Shields, the all-American scrooge, ought to do."

"Thanks a million."

"It's nothing personal where you're concerned. It's just a matter of facing a fact bluntly. Edwards Shields is conniving, avaricious, and dull. I would hardly recommend him to anybody."

"And the girl, Barbara, you feel the same way about her?"

"No, I don't. The truth of the matter, Dylan, is that I know very little about Barbara Haynes, but what I do know, I like very much."

"That, I can understand."

"Dylan, do you realize that once you have the whole map in your possession, you're worth an awful lot of money?"

"Of course, I do. With the whole map, I have a market value of exactly three hundred thousand dollars."

"That's right, Jack. You'll be worth three hundred thousand dollars, dead or alive."

Harlan Crane laughed mirthfully. I know it was a small thing, but I didn't exactly see the joke, and things got less funny as time went on.

Later, the four of us vacated an elevator at the lawyer's office. Old Luther Willard, Aunt Bernice's attorney, was waiting for us. He was so excited that he could hardly speak.

"I've been held up. A man wanted the map. He was a nasty little man, with a dark complexion and scar on the side of his neck."

Shields interrupted. 

"Are the maps alright?"

"Yes, they're alright."

Then it was my turn. 

"Hold on, everybody. Give the poor man a chance. Mr. Willard, tell us exactly what happened."

Barbara broke into the conversation. 

"This is Mr. Dylan. He's the private detective that we told you about, Mr. Willard."

"Yes, of course. Come into my office. You see, I was putting some papers into my safe. When this little man stepped up behind me and demanded the maps."

Shields cut in again. 

"Were they in the safe?"

"No, thank heavens! Please make yourselves comfortable."

"The maps, Mr. Willard? Where are they now?"

"They're right here, under the blotter on my desk. It's where they've been all along. See for yourselves. The wax seals are still intact."

I interjected.

"I'll take all three of them right now, Mr. Willard. That is, if there are no objections."

I glanced around the room from one face to another. There were no objections and Willard handed me the maps. I continued.

"Alright then, I guess we can be on our way."

"Hold on, Mr. Dylan! There are still two things you people must know... First, in the event the bonds are not recovered within twenty-four hours, I've been instructed to open another sealed envelope. That envelope is kept in a safety deposit box at the bank and it contains a single complete map. That simplified map will then be turned over to a charity. Second, if any of you die before the allotted time has expired, the bonds are to be divided among the surviving persons."

Harlan jumped in. 

"And if none of us survives, Mr. Willard?"

"In that case, the bonds go to charity."

I arranged to meet with the three heirs at Shield's place later that afternoon. Then I headed to the very public library. There, I could examine the maps in relative safety.

By placing the maps one over the other, they did, in fact, form a unified whole. I saw the bonds were hidden on the larger of those two squares of land, identified as "Twin Islands". These islands were the personal property of the late Bernice Mayfair and were located on Indian Lake, up in the mountains.

I left the library with those three maps in my pocket. Suddenly, I felt like a well-fed mallard on the opening day of hunting season, because it soon became apparent that I was being tailed. As I slipped into a doorway and turned, I saw the nasty little man with a scar.

When that little man walked by, I grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him close to me. I shook him around a little bit and pushed him hard against the brick wall. I glared into his eyes and spoke.

"Alright, you. I'm through playing tag."

"He,y take it easy, mister. Let me go."

"Not until you talk, loud and clear."

"Enough with the rough stuff. I'll tell ya everything."

"I'll take it easy, if you get the whole story straight the first time and I mean the whole story... beginning, middle, and end."

"Yeah, like you say, the whole story. It starts like this."

From out of nowhere, the little man produced a short wooden club and slammed it hard into my gut. It knocked the wind out of me and that little fella broke loose from my grip. He wasted no time making his getaway.

By the time I'd discovered it had been the sawed-off end of a shovel handle that smashed my stomach into my spine, the little man was out of sight. Another five minutes went by before I quit calling myself a sucker and started to think straight. 

The nearest public locker was in the Santa Fe Trailway's bus depot. I deposited two-thirds of the map there, for safekeeping, until we were all prepared to leave for Indian Lake. 

I located a public telephone. Half a dozen phone calls later, I discovered that a caretaker, named Jimbo, was the sole inhabitant of Twin Islands. My last call was to him. I wanted some sort of a welcoming committee waiting for us when we got there.

After taking care of that, I left the phone booth. It was only one o'clock. So I returned to my apartment, where I intended to rest until three. That's when we were to meet at Shield's place.  

Returning home was my second mistake and it didn't take me long to figure that out. The moment I closed my door, I was certain that I wasn't going to get much rest. An uninvited, unannounced, and unwelcome visitor waited in the sitting room.

"You look surprised, Mr. Dylan."

"That's because I am. At first, I didn't recognize you without a wooden club."

"I traded that for this twenty-two caliber side-iron. It's more expensive, but it's better. It makes me as big as you are, maybe even bigger."

"Sure, but does it improve your personality?"

"Most certainly, it gives me poise and that gives me manners. So when asking for that map in your pocket, I'll even say please."

I didn't move.

"Come on, Dylan. I won't say please twice!"

"No, I don't think you will. Here you go."

"Thank you. Now, before I go, there's just one more thing. That hall outside is straight and narrow all the way to the stairs. That makes it fine for shooting. After I step out, don't do anything rash for a while."

So, loving life as I do, I didn't do anything rash for a while. In fact, it was a good seven minutes before I moved at all. Then I phoned the three heirs and told them it was time for a get-together at my office.

When they were all in front of me, I informed them of recent events. I also revealed my premonition that one of those three was signing the little man's paychecks. Of course, I got nothing but Cupie Doll innocence out of them.

After adding that we'd get underway just as soon as the missing one-third of the map was returned, I threw my trench coat over my arm. I stated that I was going for a walk. I moved toward the door and paused.

Before leaving, I warned them that whoever was behind the little man could fire him. I informed my clients that I'd never have kept all three maps in one place unless all of the heirs were on hand to watch one another. Then I exited.

I hadn't traveled more than half a block when I stopped at the sound of Barbara calling after me. 

"Dylan, I'm scared. Harlan and Shields are acting like a couple of wild men and calling each other everything under the sun."

"What'd you expect, chit chat about the weather? Now quit acting like a bobby-socks within squealing distance of Sinatra and try a cigarette. It'll calm your..."

"What is it, Jack? Why are you smiling like that? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Barbara. I just found this in the pocket of my coat when I went for my cigarettes."

"It's the map."

"That's right. The missing third is back already."

When that missing third turned up so fast, I figured the heirs had decided to play ball, but I made a mental note to keep my eyes on them anyway. Obviously,  at least one of them didn't want to play fair, and certainly, there'd be more shenanigans before this little adventure was through. I didn't much care what they did to each other, but I possessed the map, which marked me as the primary target of their angst. That, I didn't like.

At three o'clock, I entered Edward's hillside house for our scheduled meeting. Shields wasn't home yet, but Cousin Harlan was there admiring the view. Barbara showed up a few minutes later, in her convertible, and Shields arrived last by taxi. It began to look as though we might actually start out all together.

Upon his arrival, Edward greeted us. "Well, I see we all arrived safe and sound."

Harlan responded.

"Yeah, are you disappointed?"

"Only by your clumsy attempts at humor, Harlan."

Barbara broke up the verbal jousting.

"Stop it, boys. Let's get started. Jack, you've looked at the map? Where are we going?"

"To Indian Lake. It's a four-hour drive. So if you're all ready, I suggest we get started."

Edward agreed.

"Very well, I'll go up to the garage and get the car."

Harlan chuckled.

"So, Aunt Bernice hid the bonds in her roost at Twin Islands. Well, we should have guessed."

Nobody seemed surprised at the location Aunt Bernice had chosen to hide her bonds. Harlan, Barbara, and I stood on the porch, watching Shields as he climbed the very steep driveway to his garage and the car. However, Barbara received significantly more of my attention than Shields. She made a mighty dreamy picture.

She leaned lazily back against the porch and wasn't aware that I was watching her. Suddenly, I saw her go tense. Her eyes filled with fear and I quickly turned to follow her stare.

Edward's sedan rapidly careened uncontrollably down the steep driveway. Barbara screamed in terror.

"The car's out of control!"

The sedan was heading for the edge of a cliff.

"The brakes are out! He'll go over!"

The sedan unexpectedly swerved and crashed hard into a tree. Quickly rushing to the wreck, I wrenched the driver-side door open and inspected Shields.

"Shields, are you hurt?"

"No. I'm alright, but the brakes... I tried to stop... If I hadn't hit this tree, I'd have gone over the edge."

"Just a second, let me have a look at those brakes, Shields."

I lay on the ground and looked beneath the car.

"It's no wonder. The brake lines are all damaged. Every drop of brake fluid has drained out."

"I might have been killed."

"No doubt about it, Shields."

We stood there awhile, all looking at one another, but nothing was said. Brake lines rarely snap accidentally. I remembered that Harlan had arrived early and the car had been in the garage. As for Barbara, had she actually anticipated the car going out of control?

Either one of them could have been responsible, but time was ticking away. We didn't have time to point any fingers. The twenty-four hours for finding the bonds were slipping away and everyone knew we had to get to Indian Lake. So we held a short pow-wow, without passing the peace pipe, and decided to take Barbara's car.

We picked up the rest of the map, which I'd stashed in the lockers at the bus station, and we shoved off. After a four-hour drive, that was about as relaxing as the thought of an overdue time bomb in a hospital nursery, we finally pulled up to the shore at Indian Lake. Jimbo, the caretaker, waited at the dock.

He knew how to handle a boat and a few minutes later, we could see those Twin Islands. We headed for the smaller of the two, where I could make out a rambling lodge. The other island, about one-quarter mile away, seemed deserted. Shields was the first one ashore.

"Here, Barbara, let me help you."

"That's alright, Edward. I'll help her."

"Thanks, Harlan. Well, Dylan, what now?"

"First, we'll go up to the house. Say, Jimbo, you have everything ready for us?"

"Sure, everything's ready, Mr. Dylan. I opened four of the rooms upstairs."

Edward was surprised.

"You opened the rooms? We're not going to sleep out here, are we?"

I responded.

"We're going to try."

Barbara objected.

"This isn't a vacation, Dylan. We're here to find the bonds and get out. Do you realize it's nine o'clock already?"

Edward chimed in.

"That leaves us only fifteen hours, Dylan!"

"Yeah, I know. I've got a good watch. I can count to twenty-four and I'm also giving orders to you three."

"Don't get heavy-handed, Dylan. You're an employee of ours and that's all. Let's get the map together and start looking for those bonds, right now."

"Take it easy, big man. The bonds are hidden on the other island. The map is tangled like a second-hand spider web. You wouldn't accomplish anything at all in the dark."

"But..."

"Look! You people hired me to help you find those bonds. If I have to get nasty and make you take orders, I can do that, too. So let's play like we're smart, go up to the lodge, and relax."

Barbara responded.

"Okay, Dylan. Just remember, we'd better have those bonds tomorrow or someone else is going to get nasty, very nasty... and I mean me."

"What? You too?"

Getting the three heirs settled down at the dinner table was quite a chore and when I was reasonably certain they'd keep an eye on each other, I slipped outside. I hid one-third of the map in a drain pipe. Then I ventured upstairs, to my room, and hid another third in the window shade.

When the maps were settled, I began to consider other things, like the accident with Edward's sedan. There had been too many accidents and coincidences to suit me. So I decided to drop in Cousin Harlan's room, just to see what I could find.

After fifteen fruitless minutes, I was ready to leave. That's when something in the wastebasket caught my eye. Sticking out was the half-hidden corner of a handkerchief, monogrammed with the letters "H C". I had just picked it up when I noticed Jimbo standing in the open door.

"Is that blood there on that handkerchief?"

"No. It looks and smells more like brake fluid, but in this case, it's practically the same thing. I think we'll just leave it here in the waste basket, Jimbo. Now, did you want something?"

"Just wanted to say that I'll be in my own place out back, if ya want me."

"Okay. Do you know where Mr. Shields is?"

"He's out on the veranda."

"Alone?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks, Jimbo. If I need anything, I'll call you and goodnight."

I sauntered into Shield's room and found him standing on the veranda, just like Jimbo said. He seemed preoccupied and didn't notice me step in the room. So I called out to him.

"Hey, Shields."

"What is it, Dylan? What's wrong?"

"You sound like a man expecting trouble."

"I was nearly killed in my car this afternoon and I don't think that was the end of it."

"Yeah, don't stand too close to any high windows."

"Thank you. It's comforting to know that I'm not alone in my suspicions."

"How are you betting? On the beauty or the beast?"

"Don't be absurd, I hope to someday marry Barbara."

"Well, someone may be beating you to that right now, with a sculptor's mallet."

"You may be naive, Jack, but Barbara isn't! I saw them just a moment ago walking down to the boathouse. Harlan was galloping after her like a half-baked idiot, as usual. If Ms. Haynes prefers me, what can he do about it?"

There was an answer to that, but it seemed a little obvious. A few minutes later, Shields went inside and I made a beeline for the boathouse. It was my intention to water down a certain hot-headed sculptor, named Harlan. When I got within earshot, I knew that I'd be as welcome as whooping cough at a glassblower's convention. So, I stopped and listened.

"Barbara, darling, I'm in love with you. Let me hold you close. For the first time in my life, I'm truly in love. I want to do things for you, to make you happy."

"Please wait, Harlan. I'm not completely free. I still have ties with Edward, you know?"

"Yes, I know. Shields is a fat, stingy, bastard! He's no man for you. If he so much as touches you from now on, I'll...

"Wait! What's that sound?"

Harlan rapidly spun to face me.

"Dylan! You eavesdropping little..."

"Eavesdropping is a minor vice compared to some of the shenanigans going on around here."

Harlan glared hotly.

"Just what do you mean by that?"

"A word to the wise is sufficient, but to you I'll give a few more. Somebody's trying to cut your little love triangle down to only two sides before tomorrow. What I've seen so far, I don't like. So I'm warning everybody."

"Just what are you accusing me of?"

Barbara interrupted.

"Harlan, control yourself. Both of you cavemen control yourselves until the bonds are found tomorrow."

Suspecting that sleep wouldn't be very healthy for a man in my position, I decided to stay up that night. It was about two o'clock when I looked out the window and saw something mighty interesting. A light intermittently glittered and moved erratically about on the other island. Fetching Jimbo, we motor-boated over there as fast as that outboard engine could propel us over the silvery moonlit water.

The light appeared to be coming from some sort of picnic shelter. When I approached and Barbara saw me standing there, she was startled but quickly recovered. She flashed a smile. With a look of relief upon her face, she spoke.

"Oh, Jack, it's you! I'm glad to see you. It's kind of spooky out here, being all alone in the dark."

"What's the idea? You decide to do a little freelance prospecting on your own?"

"That's right. Aunt Bernie loved this spot and I had a hunch that she hid the bonds at the base of this table. Apparently, I was wrong."

I just stood there, shaking my head in dismay.

"Come on, Dylan. You can't blame me for trying."

"Listen, beautiful. Don't flap your eyelashes at me. I can't see anything but double crosses right now."

"Oh, don't be that way, Jack."

"Alright, if you've had your fun, let's go back to the lodge."

"I have a better idea. The sun will be rising in a few hours. Why not wait for it here with me?"

"Barbara, baby, don't burn up too many calories with that routine. You're wasting your time, because I only have one-third of the map with me."

"You think you're so smart, Jack."

"Bright ideas hatch in that little brain of yours, too..."

Then appeared one dainty little pistol, complete with a pearl handle, no less.

"Stay away from me, Jack."

Without warning, Jimbo emerged from the darkness.

"Hey, what's going on here?"

"Look out, Jimbo."

Jimbo stepped into the light and Barbara turned. I made a swipe at her hand. That knocked Barbara's hand, pistol, and lamp all over the picnic shelter.

I seized the pearl-gripped heater and handed it to Jimbo. Then I started snatching up an assortment of items that had spilled out of Barbara's purse, but I never finished. One of these items, lying on the floor, made my eyes pop. It was the monogrammed handkerchief, covered in brake fluid, that I'd previously discovered in Harlan's room.

It all made sense now and confirmed what I'd suspected right along. Two of the three heirs had planned to split up the three hundred thousand dollars' worth of bonds from the start. It's too bad that I had to stop this little conspiracy.

Dashing for the motor launch, I yelled for Jimbo to bring Barbara back in the rowboat. All the way back to the lodge, I had a panicky feeling that I was probably too late. Swiftly slipping silently in the front door of the lodge, I detected two voices. They floated from an open kitchen door. With one hand on my diminutive but trusty PPK hand-cannon, I edged against the wall toward that kitchen and peeked in.

"Harlan, you're a fool. I'm going to kill you! And I'm going to have a perfect case of self-defense."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're hopelessly framed, Cousin Harlan. I sabotaged the brakes on my own car. I planted your handkerchief, stained with brake fluid, in your room. Dylan found it and he's convinced that you tried to kill me. Dylan is also convinced that he was brought into this whole thing by coincidence. He doesn't realize that he was deliberately involved because he'd make a reputable witness to back up my story."

"Edward, you're out of your mind!"

"Not at all. I'm going to kill you and claim it was self-defense. Dylan will testify that you tried to kill me..."

"Dylan is going to blow your head off if you don't drop that gun, Shields!"

"Dylan!"

"Yeah, it's Dylan. And I know that I wasn't brought into this thing by coincidence, but I went along with it anyway, just to see the fireworks, and I almost saw them just now."

That's when Jimbo and Barbara strolled in. Jimbo seemed concerned and Barbara pretended not to know what was going on. She called out to me.

"Jack, what's going on?"

Edward cut her off. 

"Barbara, couldn't you hold Dylan on the other island?"

I interjected.

"Barbara made a little mistake. She should've gotten rid of Harlan's handkerchief after she removed it from his room, so he wouldn't notice it in the waste basket."

Harlan seemed bewildered. He looked at Barbara with an astonished expression on his face.

"Barbara, I don't understand it! You plotted all this against me with Shields?"

"I did in the beginning, Harlan, but I changed my mind. When I fell in love with you, I let Dylan find the handkerchief in my purse. I wanted him to stop Edward. Oh darling, don't you see?"

I wasn't about to stand there and let her get away with a flimsy ploy like that. So I called her on it.

"Come on, sweetheart. Quit with all this drama. The show's over. Let's have it straight."

"Alright, I might as well, before it's too late to find those bonds. Edward and I did plan it. We even hired the little man, who tried to steal the maps from you."

"And you planned to get rid of Harlan, then split three hundred grand.

"And we failed. So what? We're right back where we started, one hundred thousand a piece. Now let's go find the bonds."

"Not so fast, beautiful. What happened to Harlan just now is a little more serious than a simple prank. It was attempted murder. He can throw you in the joint right now, if he wants to, but I'll leave it up to him. What do you say, Harlan? It's your move."

"No, I have a better idea. Dylan, one-third of that map is mine, right? Give it to me."

"Okay... Here it is."

Harlan produced a cigarette lighter from his pocket and lighted it. Edward's eyes grew wide and filled with fear. He was obviously anxious.

"Harlan! What are you doing?"

Harlan waved his one-third of the map over the flickering flame, waving it back and forth. Now Barbara became very anxious. She called out to Harlan.

"Harlan, no! Don't burn it!"

"Now, we all lose and none of us will get those bonds. That's probably how Aunt Bernice wanted it anyway."

It was almost noon and I was standing on the balcony. A scrawny old crow perched on the lodge roof. I watched Barbara and Edward slowly pull away in the boat with Jimbo. I glanced at Harlan lumbering off toward the far end of this island to sulk.

As I surveyed the three of them, I couldn't help thinking, a pig in a pinstripe suit, an ape with a red beard, and an alley cat in nylons. Keep laughing, Aunt Bernice. You were right!

Greed, treachery, and rashness do not mix, even for twenty-four hours. As for the one percent of the bonds I was to get, consider that my contribution to charity. Who knows? Maybe I can deduct it from my income tax.

- TERMINUS LIBRI -