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THE STRAND MAGAZINE . 
“ You mean the one with least life before 
him ? ” 
44 Yes;’ 
“ That isn’t always the oldest by any 
means/’ said Julian Vornheim. “ Sir Mark 
Sherman and Mr. Lucas Spver, who were 
born on the same day, are the oldest here, 
but Sherman looks as if he was thirty and 
Spyer looks as if he were a hundred.” 
Vornheim laughed unmusically, and Lucas 
Spyer, a wizened Jew, with large round 
spectacles, glanced at him with a glint of 
anger. Sherman, an enormously stout, red- 
faced individual, chuckled pleasantly. 
“ It’s not a question of age, Dr. Howe,” 
said Hartway, blandly. “ It’s a question of 
who has got most chances of living. We 
are so keen about this alabaster jar that we 
want you to tell us as far as you are able 
which of us here has the best chance of life, 
and we are agreed that the one you select 
as having the worst chance will open the 
jar.” 
Dr. Howe made an uneasy movement. 
“ Aren’t you taking this rather too 
seriously ? ” 
“ We’ve been talking about that jar until 
we’re near crazy about it,” said Stonewall 
William. “ 1 tell you, Dr. Howe, we’re 
determined to see into it before the night’s 
out, and we’re all kind of worked up over it. 
There’s Professor Madison, who won’t touch 
the thing, and he knows.” 
“ Those old priests possessed a knowledge 
that’s been lost to the world,” said Sir Mark 
Sherman, earnestly. “ It’s a risk to open 
it, yet I’m willing to go into the lottery.” 
“ Now, doctor, don’t disappoint us,” 
exclaimed Hartway. 
Dr. Howe fancied he caught an imperative 
look in his eye. 
“ All right,” he said. <£ I’m perfectly 
willing to do my part of the affair, but you 
must remember my forecast will not be very 
reliable. One can only make a statement 
that as far as one can tell a man will live so 
many years. It would be absurd to claim 
accuracy.” 
“ That’s all right,” said Vornheim. “ We 
simply want your opinion, and we’re willing 
to adhere to it.” 
“ Very well, I’m ready.” 
Dr. Howe stood up. Hartway rose and 
opened a door at the end of the saloon. 
“ You can examine each of us in turn in 
here,” he said. “ Perhaps Mr. Stonewall 
William will consent to going first.” 
The American millionaire nodded, and 
followed the doctor out of the saloon. He 
was away about five minutes, and was followed 
by Julian Vornheim. Slowly each guest 
was examined turn by turn, save Professor 
Madison, and finally Hartway himself entered 
the doctor’s presence. He closed the door 
at once. 
“ Just undo your shirt-front,” said Dr. 
Howe, who, with his stethoscope in his ears, 
was jotting down notes on the back of an 
envelope. 
Hartway submitted to his examination 
with a good-humoured smile. Dr. Howe took 
some time before he had finished. 
“ Now,” said Hartway, “ I simply let you 
examine me as a matter of form. I know I’m 
as sound as a bell.” He came close to Howe. 
“ Look here,” he said, in a low Amice, “ this 
affair is all a put-up game. I want these 
men — Stonewall William in particular — to 
carry away the idea that I can’t last another 
year. If they get that into their heads, 
the price of the New Beet Sugar Trust shares 
will drop at once. Now I want that to happen 
because I want to buy up as many shares as 
T can. I own a big block as it is. But I 
want them all. Do you see ? ” 
“ Well ? ” 
“ Well, if you go back to the saloon and 
say in a grave voice that I’m in a bad way, 
with only a year before me at the outside, 
then I’ll start up excitedly, and there 
will be a bit of a scene, and then William 
and Vornheim and the rest of them will 
carry away that idea and act accordingly. 
They’ll calculate on the shares dropping, 
and will get an option of them for a certain 
figure above that to which they ’ll drop, for 
no one thinks anything will happen to New 
Beets. They’ll hang on, waiting for my 
death, and I’ll do them all by not dying — 
see ? After they’ve got the option they’ll 
spread the rumour. The shares will drop, 
and I’ll buy at a reasonably low figure. Do 
you follow me ? ” 
“ Yes,” said Howe, slowly. “ I think so.” 
Hartway put a cheque on the table. It was 
for a hundred guineas. 
“ There,” he said, “ that’s for you.” 
Dr. Howe looked at it a moment. 
“ You’re giving me this, I understand, on 
condition that I tell them you haven’t got 
a vear to live at the outside ? ” 
" Yes.” 
Dr. Howe picked up the cheque and put it 
in his pocket-book. 
“ Very well,” he remarked. He looked at 
the floor thoughtfully. “ By the way,” he 
said, “ you’ll have to open that jar.” 
“ Oh, I don’t mind that ! ” exclaimed 
