"Never a soul."
"Well, it's a million of money. Will you chance it?"
Mick and his sister rose. "We'll go on wid the case," said Mick.
"But supposin' Keogh turns up--"
"You've got to take chances in this life," said Blake, "if you're
after a million that doesn't belong to you. Will you chance it?
Share and share alike?"
"A million," said Mick. "Of course we'll go on wid the case. I daresay
William Grant took the name of Keogh that day he was married," and
with this ingenious suggestion Mick took his sister home, leaving
Blake alone in the office.
After his clients were gone Blake looked at the certificate for a
long time, asking himself, "Shall I take the risk or not?" He was
about to do a criminal act, and though it was not his first, he
flinched every time he crossed the border-line. He lifted his hand,
and hesitated; then he remembered his dismissal from Kuryong, and
caught sight of a dunning letter lying on his table. That decided
him. The risk was worth taking. The danger was great, but the stake
was worth it. He took an eraser, made a few swift light strokes
on the paper over the almost illegible writing, and "Patrick Henry
Keogh" disappeared; on the space that it had occupied he wrote
"William Grant," in faint strokes of a pencil. He had crossed the
border-line of crime once more.