The Mystery of the Lost Will

Southland Times, Issue 22734, 9 November 1935, Page 18

The Mystery of the Lost Will

—Prize.— He was rich, all knew it, yet he had died, leaving no will, but only a scrap of paper beneath his pillow, and on it, these words. “There is a will. Leave all untouched until it is discovered.” And in one of his boxes was another scrap of paper bearing the words, (“Telegraph, Post Office, —— Town. ) And below, was the telegram, the strangest message. It was written, not in words, but in figures. (3 15 13 5. 615 12 12 15 23 20 8 5 2 18 15 15 11 114 4 6 9 14 4 20 8 5 23 9 12 12). The police took charge of the telegram. It was evidently some code message, and they decided that the easiest way to find the solution was to send it away. Therefore it was despatched. The house and the trains were guarded, and further developments awaited. * ♦ ♦ * * * * *

“He,” was an old recluse who had spent the latter part of his life shut up in his home, alone, but for a male cook and servant. Many people said he was insane, and all declared that he was rich. However, be that as it may, he died, and left nothing but the scrap of paper and telegram before mentioned. . - Two days had passed since the telegram had gone, two days or anxious waiting for the police; and on the afternoon of the second day a man in the company of a policeman arrived at the guarded house. “I am afraid you have been troubled for nothing, my friends, he said. “Mr Joseph, who died some days ago is my uncle. As far as I have ever known I am his only living relative. Some years ago my uncle had a great trouble, and that trouble turned his brain. Ever since he has had a passion for mysteries.” The listeners held their breath. “Some time ago he sent me this.” All craned forward to see the slip of paper he held in his hand. “It is the key of the cypher.” On the paper W^A t B S C DEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ) (1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26) “Thus the telegram reads”—(Come. Follow the brook and find the will). For a moment there was dead silence, then a voice inquired. “But where is the brook that we must follow to find the will.” The man laughed. “It is nothing so commonplace as an ordinary brook, he said. “It is something that he has named the brook.” A bevy of puzzled faces confronted him. “Let’s go and search the house,” he said. . The house was old and rambling, and at the top was a long winding corridor, and on the wallpaper was a winding stream. “Here we are,” cried several voices. They walked the length of the corridor until they reached the wall at the end, but. there was no sign of a will. “A secret opening, of course,” cried one, but the wall revealed no hidden spring. They looked at each other, completely baffled. A sudden laugh made them turn. The old man’s nephew stood at an open panel in the side wall, a sheet of paper in his hand. He had walked along the wall, his hand pressed to the pictured stream, and what, in its course, had looked like a large headed tack, was a secret spring. • They clustered round to read the will. To his nephew, he left the house and furniture, to his servant a pound note. They sat down and laughed. “There’s nothing in the house worth the trouble of the search.” —Cousin Isobel McKenzie (14), Dipton. —PrizeAll the people were very anxious to find the will which had been stolen

from “Rose Castle,” the home of Jack Gordon, the only son of Sir Robert Gordon. Ever since Lady Gordon had died, her husband had been fading away, so that two months after Jack’s mother died his father passed away. How the will was stolen or lost was a mystery because it had been lying on the desk in Jack’s study where the family lawyer had placed it, and when he came back half an hour later it had vanished. None of the windows bad been tampered with and the door was still locked, because the lawyer had put the key in his pocket to go to the funeral. The police had searched the place for months till at last something happened. One day, six years after his father’s death, Jack was walking along the forest path yfhen a lame pigeon hopped out in front of him. On looking closer he found that a pigeon’s nest was just close to the lame pigeon, but it was a piece of paper that attracted his attention. When Jack opened it he found that it was his father’s long lost will. It is thought that the pigeon had found a secret way into the house and stolen the will while they were at the church. —Cousin Annie Watson (12), Ryal Bush. —Prize— Mr Grey sat at his old mahogany desk thinking intently. Of late his eldest son, John, had been very good to him, very solicitous about his health, and always anxious to save him trouble. For this reason, Mr Grey sat at his desk thinking. He was about to alter his will. He had three sons, and had divided his estate up so that the youngest two should have the biggest part of the estate. But now, he had decided to divide it evenly, so that no quarrel should occur after his death, although he had told John that his would be a very small share indeed. He chuckled. A knock sounded at the door. Mr Grey hurriedly slipped the altered will out of sight. “Come in,” he called. A middle-aged man entered the room, and Mr Grey, pleasure showing in every line of his face, rose to greet him, for at once he recognized the man .to be one of his old school pals. The man smiled and told him that he had come to take him out into the fresh air for a walk. Mr Grey eagerly consented, and chatting gaily the two men walked out into the sunshine. Next morning, Mr Grey was found dead in his bed. A sudden seizure, the doctor told the distraught household. Lately Mr Grey had been suffering from heart-failure, but he had seemed in such good spirits the night before, that the unexpected news seemed to stun them. Following the funeral, a few days later, the family gathered in the drawing room to hear the reading of the will. The family solicitor asked the eldest son for the will. At this everyone looked surprised and the widow told the solicitor that she understood that it was in his keeping. The solicitor explained to them that their late father had asked for the will to be sent to him, which he had done, so that it must be in his room. The eldest son went to look in his father’s desk but could find no will. He went through all the room, drawers, bookcase, cupboard, everything, but no trace of the will did he find. John slowly made his way down to the drawing room and broke the news to the rest of the family. Nothing could be done in the meantime, so the family dispersed. For the next six months inquiries were continually being made at the G.P.O. and such like places but without success. And sad to say, despite the mother’s efforts to keep the peace, the brothers quarrelled bitterly. The younger brothers blamed the eldest, saying that since he knew that he was only to receive a small part of the estate, he had hidden the will, so that since there was no will the whole estate fell to him. John in consequence was very much annoyed. He swore that he had not destroyed or taken the will and at last in desperation left his home. It was proved that the packet was delivered at tire house, but after the maid had taken it they could not trace it. This threw suspicion on the maid as well but no one could prove it. There were rumours that a friend of John’s had stolen it, but these were all untrue. Three months later, Mrs Grey, wishing to show her niece photos of the family, sent her up for the family Bible. The child soon returned and as the grandmother turned the pages with reverent hands, she came across a piece of stiff parchment paper folded in halves. Curiosity prompted her to open it, and for a moment she sat staring_at it in surprise; for what was she looking at but the lost will! Mr Grey nad put the will in the Bible, nine months ago ! As quickly as possible Mrs Grey notified the rest of the family and very soon they were once more happily united. —Patricia Summers (16), Orepuki.

—Highly Commended—

Click!

A letter! Surely not. Vera Bagley dropped, her book and ran to the front door. Sure enough a big official looking letter in the box. On opening it Vera found that it was from a solicitor of the neighbouring town to tell her that her - mother’s brother had just died and as he did not leave his will to anybody and she was his nearest relation to be found, his estate was left to her. Vera could hardly believe her own eyes. Vera was an orphan and had been for a long time. She was a typiste in the town and she was staying with some friends. In fact she had been with them ever since she was ten and she was now eighteen. The following day Vera received another’ letter from the solicitor saying that she was to take charge of the estate the following week. He also told her that a girl named Myra Smith was there. She had been there for many years, but she was going to stay there for company for Vera. That week passed very quickly and before Vera knew where she was, she was away from all her friends and her old job and starting a new life. When she arrived at “Pussy Willow” station a man came up and asked her if she was Miss Bagley, and she said yes. He led her to a big car and in a few minutes they were driving up a drive which led to a beautiful old house. A butler met Vera at the door and ushered her into a lovely bedroom. Vera was very astonished because she did not have a tap of work to do and there were so many servants there. When she inquired where Miss Smith was she was told that Miss Smith was away but nobody knew why she went. After Vera had been there for about a month she was looking through some books in the library when she found a piece of paper. It was her uncle’s long lost will, and it was for Miss Myra Smith. So Vera knew now why Myra had gone away. The next day Vera wrote a letter to the solicitor and sent him the will. A few days later Vera received a letter from the solicitor to say he had written to Miss Smith and she was returning in a week’s time. The next day Vera left the big estate and returned to her old friends and her old job. She was quite pleased to get back again as she said life was too high for her at the estate.

—3 marks to Cousin Melva Rule (14), Mataura Island.

Highly Commended —

“I wish Grandpa had lived to explain things,” said twelve-year-old Margaret, as she resumed her task of peeling the P °“Yes, it is a bother,” said David, looking at his twin sister. ■ “Who is Gwanpa? inquired Baby Rose, who had lately attained the age of three.

Margaret and David Steele had been discussing that subject which ever puzzled wiser heads than theirs, the grandfather’s will. He had died during the troublous days of the Civil War in England and in the will which had been found, a cousin of his inherited all his earthly belongings. Mrs Steele, it was said, had displeased her father by her marriage, but many people believed that he had relented and previous to his death, made another will in which he bequeathed everything to her. Searches had been made for it, but to no avail. Margaret and David often relapsed to this subject, thinking of the different life their mother would lead, instead of striving hard to keep her children properly clothed and fed. Baby, too, was beginning to realize that there was something strange about her family, hence her question. It was Saturday afternoon, and the twins were wandering aimlessly along the road. Suddenly Margaret thought of an idea which would provide them with some occupation. The thought of the lost will was always uppermost in their minds, as Mrs Steele was ill and it was impossible for them to buy all the luxuries she needed. “Let’s ask Mrs Grant if we may explore Grandpa’s old rooms,” Margaret suggested, speaking of her grandfather’s elderly housekeeper whom the present owner had kept in charge of the house. “Yes,” said David. “She is always very kind. I believe that she thinks there is another will.” So, accordingly, the two walked along the gravelled path, beneath an avenue of lofty elms to their grandfather’s house. Mrs Grant welcomed them kindly, and allowed them to explore. Thirty minutes search brought forth no fresh discovery and the twins were beginning to weary of their self-appoin-ted task. “Come here! Come here!” called David excitedly, from behind a large box. Margaret came and saw, to her amazement, a trapdoor in the floor. Tugging and pulling, they at last succeeded in opening it. “Come on.” urged David, when they had a candle, and the two lowered themselves carefully down. They found themselves in a room where, but for the candle, everything was dark. A passage at the farther corner of the room, led into a series of smaller rooms. The two were evidently in some secret apartment in the basement of the house.

At last. Margaret gave a cry of surprise. There, in the comer of the passage-way was an old book, seemingly quite old. David picked it up and from it, out fell—the lost will. The story was later summed up. During the Civil War, many people held secret meetings, and the rooms had been used for that. Mr Stern, it seemed, had written one will which gave to his cousin his belongings but, later, another had been written, giving everything to his daughter. Fearing

that some unfriendly party might distroy it, he had hidden his will in the secret passage. So Margaret and David had their wish. They all settled in their grandfather’s comfortable home and were very happy. —3 marks to Cousin Ruth Dowden (12), 11 Scandrett street.

—Highly Commended—

Old Granny McLean had died of a broken heart; it was because her dear grandson had had to go away, right away—away over in France, far away from all his people, and poor granny missed him. Some how or other his letters never reached his granny and she had made him promise to write as often as he could, but not one’ did she get. Then one winter’s day she passed away. Gran, had always said, “You shall have my money, dear,” and when she died the will was nowhere to be found although her lawyer had told her married daughter that he had been present at the signing of it. “Oh well I don’t know what could have happened to it,” said she. “All we know is that all the furniture is to be packed and sold.” The next week all the furniture was being carried away and at the last load all that was left was a chest-of-drawers, a side board, a piano, and a frail sewing machine, which had four drawers, one of which would never open, as far back as the family could remember. The carriers hoisted it up on to the lorry, and with a bang let it drop on the floor of the lorry. Then! it all happened in a moment. The top of the machine split, and the sides cracked and out fell the drawers, every one, even the one which would never open. Bobby saw it first, an envelope stuck to the side of the mystery drawer. He very carefully picked it up and looked inside. This is what a note in the envelope said—“To all my other grandchildren I leave my jewels and treasures, to Bobby I leave my money; to see particulars, find will in secret door in the dining room!” He gave a gasp To think of that house having secrets. He rushed inside and into the dining room. There, right beside the fire place, was a scratch on the wall and Bobby hit the wall, and a small door opened, and right in front of his eyes was Granny s The will had been read and each grandchild had gone away with a singing heart, for now everything was cleared up and Bobby had said that all of them were to have a share of the money.

3 marks to Cousin Gwen Waterhouse (14), Orepuki;

—Highly Commended —

In a certain village in the heart of England there lived an old man called Sir Toby Grange. It was said by the villagers that he was worth millions; but not a penny would he give away. Perhaps, though, there was an excuse for his miserliness. In his early days he was very poor and for that reason, detested and looked down upon by the haughty villagers. Because of this reason, when he acquired his' vast wealth he had vowed that never would the villagers receive any help or hospitality from him. And he had kept his word. Of late Sir Toby had had his nephew, Jack Cobham, staying with him and he appeared to be greatly struck by the good demeanour of his nephew. One or two days later Sir Toby was found dead in his room, and on his will being opened it was found that he had left his money to Cobham. When this news had spread it was decided to give a ball in honour- of Cobham’s coming wealth. It was the night of the ball and things were being carried out in grand style. On a platform before a crowded floor a band was striking up a tuneful air while two or three refreshment stalls took up the attention of many. Altogether the scene was one of great gaiety and enjoyment; but let us turn to another part of the mansion. Burkes, a specially employed constable, was seated in the library. He, seeing no purpose in keeping an eye on the proceedings, had stolen away to the library and was resting there, his feet placed on the mantelpiece and generally enjoying the warmth of the roaiing fire. Suddenly without any warning at all the policeman heard a scuffle outside the library door. Jumping out of his chair he opened the door and charged into the darkness of the corridor. There was a fall, a murmur—and then silence. All at once a man stole from the gloom and crept stealthily into the room. He was of a slight but wiry build and had a scar on his left ear. After looking about to see he was alone, he strode over to the desk where Sir Toby’s will was kept. Finding that the lid was locked, he drew from his pocket a curious looking object. It was in the shape of a long round piece of steel from which protruded two arms. On these were two huge rubber pads—suction pads. Then the intruder placed these two pads on. the lid of the desk and after turning on a switch he began to pull. At length, after a few minutes, the lid was raised and the man began to rummage eagerly among the contents of the desk. Then, giving a grunt ot satisfaction he drew out the object, ot his quest—Sir Toby’s will. Having completed his task of putting the desk to its normal appearance the stranger opened the door and left the room. Let us turn again to the ball-room scene. Constable Burkes had reappeared and was now mixing freely with the crowd and indulging in goodnatured banter. Suddenly, one of the doors of the ball-room was flung open, and a startled lawyer rushed up to “Your will—its gone—its been stolen J* Cobham paled and fell back a rtep. “Egad man—surely you re joking. “No,” said the lawyer, I had gone to the desk to fix the will up and when 1 looked it was gone.” “The will—gone; lost. Surely, tis up to the , b f nd 7P lat Cobham raised his hand for the band to stop and told the crowd what had jVgasp went up as the news was absorbed and many a person glanced suspiciously at his neighbour. Quickly, Burkes and a detective were ordered to search the guests; but without sucaa££ - “I can’t understand it, murmured Cobham, “there’s no trace of how it was removed—yet it s gone. As he was leaving the scene ot the theft Burkes rushed up with one of th he said, “this is the thief.” Glancing at the accused man who had gone a trifle white about the gills, Cobham led the way back to the lib-

ra “Now,” said Cobham who with ( the detective was seated at a table, tell me” “Well sir,” began Burkes, “I was searching in here for some clues, when I found this, pocket-knife on the floor, near the desk with the initials G.M. on it” He handed the knife oyer “Then I went out and after careful searching I found that the only person with the initials G.M. was Gordon Mabster, so I brought him along, he concluded with a cynical smile. “H’m,” said Cobham, “where were you this evening?” „ “I was dancing with the rest, sir. “All the time?” “Well no—l came in here to, get my wallet which I had forgotten.” “There you are, sir, broke in Burkes, “I knew it. He’s the low base scoundrel who stole it; have him arrested—.” At that moment one of the chaperons burst in. “Sir, Burkes has been found murdered. This man’s an impost—.”■* “Bang, Bang!” Burkes had drawn his gun and was attempting to escape; but

he had forgotten that the detective was armed. , The air was heavy with smoke as the guns roared” again. Then as Burkes was going for the door the ’tec took careful aim and fired—Bang! The disguised murderer dropped dead. Cobham jumped to his feet and rushing over to the ’tec asked him what it all meant. “It means,” he said, “that this fellow was the perpetrator of a very clever plot, which nearly succeeded. This man evidently found Burkes in the library and after brutally killing him donned the constable’s clothes and made himself like the murdered man. However he forgot one thing—he had a scar and Burkes did not. By this I knew he was not Burkes.” “But,” broke in Cobham, the will. How did he get it and what for.” ( “Simple,” mused the detective, he used suction pads—the rings on the desk were proof enough. Ips motive was simply revenge—for did imprison him once for ten years. “True.” . , The mystery of the lost will was a mystery no longer. —3 marks to Cousin Desmond Stone (14), Morton road. —Highly Commended — lan Jenkins and Poppy Pinkins were sitting under a wild-apple tree, talking about their future life, when Poppy happened to remark that she would be able to live in comfort, for she would inherit her uncle’s money. When they got to the front gate or Poppy’s home they saw that her uncle looked the image of _ death. Poppy rushed to her uncle’s side, closely followed by lan; they carried her uncle into the house and they then pushed the door open into the study, but, alas, the nephew from Canada was there. He was rummaging through the boxes and books. Then he said, “this is what I want.” In his hand he held the will. “Hum, so the old fellow would cut me out, would he? Well, we’ll see!” He rose and went out of the room. In his hand was the will. . He pushed Poppy away in his hurry to get to the “Old Man,” as he called the uncle. „ , During the night the “Old Man died. But when the family lawyer was called in, the will couldn’t be found. The nephew left the day after the funeral. When he was saying goodbye to his cousin he said, _ Cousin, if you are in need of money just ask me and I will supply you with your needs. Poppy thought that sounded a bit fishy, but said nothing. Hunt as they would, they could not fine the lost

will They looked from the attics to the cellars but not a sign was seen of the will. About six weeks later the house was to be done up, ready for the new occupants. „ The plumber came and was fixing a pipe that was blocked; when he poked in a brush he brought out a little bit of blue paper on it was ill <p a rt or will). The next time out came a little bit of envelope, then out came the whole will; but who had put it there was the question. They soon found a reply to that, for the nephew wrote saying that he had been the rightful heir to the uncle’s estate and he had sold his farm in Canada to come and claim his right, but he would wait to get a letter from his cousin before he came back to England. But in the will were these words, “Mv last will, 16th October, 1893. “I hereby express that all. my estate and money go to Mabel Elsie (Poppy) Pinkins,” . Samuel Everest. —3 marks to Cousin May McLean (13), Clifden-Tuatapere, R.D. Highly Commended — Jean Roberts was sitting on the verandah of the only home she had ever known since she was married, but to-morrow it would pass into the h anda of strangers; all because they could not find a slip of paper which made it clear that a distant relative of Jeans had left the place to them. Oh, that day two years ago when her daughter, May, had a party for her fourth birthday! This distant relative had handed May the paper and a big coloured Easter egg with chocolate, “There’s a home and an egg for you, h< The d children ate the chocolates but the shell and the paper had been left on the table for a while. Jean had meant to move it but something else had claimed her attention just then and when she had come back for it later it was gone. Next day, her little May had taken ill and died. All the sunshine of Jean’s life had gone that So to-morrow they were going to be a married couple on a farm. But before that there was to be a farewell party to all May’s little fnends. Hark they were coming now. The two little Bruces from the farm m the valley, the West twins and Mays dearest friend, an orphan from St. Betty’s Home, Molly Woods, whom she had not seen nottod her Buesls until a hand slipped into hers and she looked down into Molly’s brown eyes. Ive come to tell you something, saidthe child. “May and I were going to keen it secret till it happened but 1 dont think she would mind se ®’, Her May got her egg. Billy West told her chickens came from ordinary eggs but May thought hers was magic so, as she wanted some more chocolates, she put the wrappers back in it, then asked me what I wanted most of all. I said a home, so she put the paperin it and we put it in old Blackie’s nest down the road and waited for it to hatch. “Come and show me, said Jean and away they went to the old nest where egg lay. Roberts said he never saw his wife so happy as when she-had found the will. He rang up everybody and. told. them. __ Jean was speaking to Mollv vou saved our home so will you share it witn ur-r? The child’s eyes told the answer. -3 marks to Cousin Eugenie McKenzie (13), Tone street, Bluff.

—Highly Commended— Two weeks before old grandfather Browne died he had been looking all right but somehow, as he himself said, he felt it in his bones that he did not have long to live, so he immediateb set about making his will. When he had completed it satisfactorily he sealed it and, having finished that, he went outside for a stroll, taking the document with him. He was away a long time and his family were wondering it anything had happened to the old man, when he appeared, without the will. As soon as he arrived indoors grandfather Browne went to his study where he sat and thought a long while. Evidently being satisfied with some idea that had occurred to him he brough out paper and pencil, then began write When he had written about half a page he folded the P 3 !** a "d placed it in an envelope which he sealed and then wrote on the front “Not to be opened until aftei my funeral.” He placed the envelope on the writing desk so that it cou seen easily. . T t. e It was seventeen days later, body of grandfather Browne had gone to its last resting-place and the mourners had returned to the house the envelope was opened. Having taken out the paper the reader co ™^ n^ id “On the 24th of August, 1935,1, Davm Browne, made my will and hid it in t e following place:— ‘Down by the cedar tree There is a hollow trunk, All you need do is to see f Where the will I have sunk I can assure you it is easy for you to find ” (Signed) David Browne. When the reader had finished it was decided to find the will. Having reached the cedar-tree and seeing the hollow

trunk the people began to look for the document. The trunk was open at one end only, but so well was it covered by the growing plants that it was difficult to discern the hole. The people clustered around and one of the men put his hand inside the trunk, but he could feel nothing, so the log was chopped up. Still there was no sign of the will so a search was made.

Now, unknown to grandfather Browne, a squirrel had been watching him when he hid the paper and it had been wondering why he had done that. As soon as the old man had disappeared the squirrel dropped down from his leafy perch and slipped into the hollow trunk, where it found the will which it took with it and left it in a fork of a branch in the cedar tree. After doing that the mischievous squirrel forgot all about the document. Of course, the searchers did not know what had happened to the will and so came to the conclusion that some one had stolen it. Although most of them believed that that had occurred the search was carried on, until, one day, the will was found in the following manner. One of the young boys who was fond of climbing, clambered up the cedar tree and what should he see but the will. He soon told everyone about it, you may be sure. One of the men, seeing the squirrel, said, “I think that young scamp knows something about this;” and he was not wrong, was he? There was great rejoicing at the discovery of the will which was soon opened and read. —3 marks to Cousin Daphne Shields (14), Kennington. —Highly Commended — The East London ’bus was slowly wending its way through the crowded traffic of a busy street. One of the passengers, a tall surly fellow, sat deeply absorbed in thought. The bus stopped at Regent street, Watson descended and walked quickly to his friend’s house. ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ “Are you prepared to leave this evening?” “Yes.” “Very well. I give you £lOO now and if you are successful you will be a wealthier man than you are at present.” “And I am to meet you at New York on the 13th June? “Yes! I will communicate with you before that day,” and with these words Watson left his friend Gerber, who was about to leave by train for Liverpool where he intended boarding a steamer bound for America. * * » ♦ •

Ten. days later the two men met in Gerber’s private room in a large New York hotel. They were discussing future plans. “What do you think we should do with this document?” Watson was saying. “I leave that to you. When do you mean to return?” “To-night, by air as my fathers affairs are to be seen to to-morrow and my absence may cause suspicion.” “It has already caused suspicion and your father’s affairs are already fixed up, you scoundrel,” said Gerber, taking Watson by the collar and two policemen stepped from behind the door. Gerber, a private detective, who had been employed to trace the lost will,

had before leaving Liverpool sent the will to the lawyer, keeping only a copy for himself. He had then sent on, to New York, a message for two policemen to be ready for Watson when he arrived on the fixed day. —3 marks to Cousin Ruby Beggs (15), 21 Earnslaw street.