I was ushered by a clerk into his private office, and as he rose to meet me, judged him directly to be the son of the Elihu Sanderson mentioned in my father's Will--as indeed is the case.
A spare, dry, shrivelled man, with a mouth full of determination and acuteness, and a habit of measuring his words as though they were for sale, he is in everything but height the essence of every Scotchman I remember to have seen.
"'Good day,' said he, 'Mr .-- I fancy I did not catch your name.' "'Trenoweth,' said I.
"'Indeed! Trenoweth!' he repeated, and I fancy I saw a glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

'Do I guess your business ?' "'Maybe you do,' I replied, 'for I take it to be somewhat unusual.' "'Ah, yes; just so; somewhat unusual!'-- and he chuckled drily-- 'somewhat unusual! Very good indeed! I suppose--eh ?--you have some credentials--some proof that you really are called Trenoweth ?'--Here Mr.Sanderson looked at me sharply.
"In reply I produced my father's Will and the little Bible from my jersey's side.

As I did so, I felt the Scotchman's eyes examining me narrowly.

I handed him the packet.

The Will he read with great attention, glanced at the Bible, pondered awhile, and then said-- "'I suppose you guess that this was a piece of private business between Amos Trenoweth, deceased, and my father, also deceased.
I tell ye frankly, Mr.Trenoweth--by the way, what is your Christian name, eh?
So you are the Ezekiel mentioned in the Will?
Are you a bold man, eh?
Well, you look it, at any rate.