once, and—well, gentlemen, I think I may conclude by varying the words of the great Roman and saying, 'I came—I saw—I have found.'"
"Yes," said Goulburn. "But—how did you find? Pardon me, but I'm curious to know how you got the information that I was here."
Mr. Conybeare smiled enigmatically.
"Ah, my dear sir, we lawyers learn many secrets," he said, "and we acquire knowledge in many strange ways. Rest content, sir, with the knowledge that you are undoubtedly the real Simon Pure, and may enter into your heritage at once, if you so please. The executors of your uncle's will are myself and my junior partner, Benjamin Calfin, and we will expedite matters as quickly as possible. There is your uncle's house ready for you in Harley Street, beautifully furnished, full of works of art, and newly decorated. Bring your sister to see me to-morrow at eleven o'clock, and we will settle everything that is at present necessary."
Goulburn presently left the senior partner's private room and went thoughtfully to the office, where he knew he would find Chris at work. That worthy was just opening a big ledger—at sight of his friend's preoccupied face he shut it with a bang.
"No bad news, old chap, I hope?" he said.
Goulburn shook his head. He crossed the floor and laid his hand on the little man's shoulder.
"Chris," he said, "I've come into a fortune. My uncle's left me five hundred thousand pounds."
Christopher Aspinall's eyes bulged. Christopher
