CHAPTER 5"It is a wicked will; an infamous will!" Old General Percival was the speaker. "I cannot understand my friend, John Burslem, making such a will."
Sir John Burslem's funeral had taken place that morning. By his own wish he had been buried by the side of his first wife in the great cemetery in North London. Neither his second wife nor his daughter had been present and there had been no flowers, by request.
There had been no communication from his brother, the explorer, and it was doubtful whether the telegram had reached him. Lord Carlford and his son, Alan, had been the chief mourners; there had been a great following of friends and acquaintances, of those who had been connected with the dead man, either in the financial or in the racing world. Crowds, full of morbid curiosity, h
