Summary

Portrait of Edgar Wallace Edgar Wallace Number Six and the Borgia — VIII. A Note from Nowhere (1921)

I do not work, because I have brains, and because I do not regard human life from the same angle as the commonplace person; neither do you. Do you realize that if Mr. Ross at this moment sat down and wrote on a sheet of paper half a dozen lines, signed it, and had his signature witnessed by a chambermaid or a valet, those few lines would make us enormously wealthy men, and give us all the power in the world?”
“You mean if he made a will in our favor and providentially died?” said Smith.
“You're very direct,” Cæsar laughed softly.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Edgar Wallace Edgar Wallace Number Six and the Borgia — VIII. A Note from Nowhere (1921)

The figure that came past the door was not, as he had expected, a woman—but Ross himself! The old man had gone out and left the woman behind. For a while Smith was too bewildered to make a move, then, seizing his hat from the bed, he raced down the corridor in pursuit of the old man. He must have gone down by the stairs, for the elevator was descending as he reached the end of the corridor and he came to the ground floor in time to see the figure pass through the swing doors, out into the night.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Edgar Wallace Edgar Wallace Number Six and the Borgia — VIII. A Note from Nowhere (1921)

Smith nodded.
“If you and I wished to forge a little check, say on Mr. Ross' account, we have to overcome the suspicions and safeguards imposed by dozens of very intelligent men, all of whom would have to be hoodwinked separately. And then in the end we might fail.”
“That I have realized,” Mr. Smith agreed, with a grimace.
“Is it not a more simple matter,” mused Cæsar, “to induce Mr. Moss to sign a document of half a dozen lines?”
“That depends,” said Smith. “I should say that it would be a very difficult matter.
Source: Wikisource

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