The Peculiar Substance of Solomon Caverney

Eccentric relatives should be kept at a distance just as diligently as wealthy ones should be visited. It was my misfortune that Uncle Solomon was both.

The newspapers described him as a fearless cartographer for his exploration of the Amazon, a notorious adventurer for his pursuit of antiquities, and a scandalous photographer for various of his anthropological works.

His publisher at one time had dealings with my bank. Thus, I came to know some detail of his finances. In wealth, if not in character, Solomon Caverny was a man of substance. And I was his closest living relation. (For completeness, I should also mention Freddy. But since I was older than he, by twenty-eight minutes, I would come first in any division of property.)

As in birth, so in life, Freddy was late. He stamped in the hallway, unapologetic, shedding snow from his worn boots and shabby bowler.

“Season’s greetings to you brother dear,” he said.

“Likewise,” said I, extending a hand.

He shook it vigorously, sprinkling the letter stand with droplets of water from his sleeve. “Hope you don’t mind paying for the carriage,” he said. “I’m a trifle short.”...

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