His eyes met theirs and lighted up in a hard and terrible manner.
"I'm not leaving them a dollar!" he cried.
"We'll see to them, boy," said Roger, hoarsely, but Bruce had already turned to Baird.
"I make you my executor, Allan--don't need it in writing--there isn't time." He drew a sudden quivering breath.

"I have no will," he muttered on.
"Never made one--never thought of this.

Business life just starting--booming!--and I put in every cent!" There broke from him a low, bitter groan.

"Made my money settling other men's muddles! Never thought of making this mess of my own! But even in mine--I could save something still--if I could be there--if I could be there--" The sweat broke out on his temples, and Deborah laid her hand on his head.
"Sh-h-h," she breathed.

He shut his eyes.
"Hard to think of anything any more.