Silas Weir Mitchell At the time he sent for me I was a clerk, and poor enough. Remembering my mother’s words, his message gave me, his sole relative, no new hopes; but I thought it best to go. When I sat down by his bedside, he began, with a malicious grin: “I suppose you think me queer . I will explain.” What he said was certainly queer enough.
“I have been living on an annuity into which I put my fortune. In other words, I have been, as to money, concentric half of my life to enable me to be as eccentric as I pleased the rest of it. Now I repent of my wickedness to you all, and desire to live in the memory of at least one of my family. You think I am poor and have only my annuity.
You will be profitably surprised. I have never parted with my precious stones; they will be yours. You are my sole heir. I shall carry with me to the other world the satisfaction of making one man happy.
“No doubt you have always had expectations, and I desire that you should continue to expect. My jewels are in my safe. There is nothing else left”. When I thanked him he grinned all over his lean face, and said: “You will have to pay for my funeral.” 10th - - I must say that I never looked forward to any expenditure with more pleasure than to what it would cost me to put him away in the earth.
As I rose to go, he said: “The rubies are valuable. They are in my safe at the trust company. Before you unlock the box, be very careful to read a letter which lies on top of it; and be sure not to shake the box.” I thought this odd. “Don’t come back.
It won’t hasten things.” He died that day next week, and was handsomely buried. The day after, his will was found, leaving me his heir. I opened his safe and found in it nothing but