As he was carrying it back his eye fell upon a little heap of objects
carefully set down upon the bureau. They were the contents of the Old
Gentleman's pockets that the undertaker had removed when the body was
dressed for burial.
Vandover turned them over, sadly interested in them. There was the
watch, some old business letters and envelopes covered with memoranda,
his fountain-pen, a couple of cigars, a bank-book, a small amount of
change, his pen-knife, and one or two tablets of chewing-gum.
Vandover thrust the pen and the knife into his own pocket. The
bank-book, letters, and change he laid away in his father's desk, but
the cigars and the tablets of gum, together with the crumpled
pocket-handkerchief that he found on another part of the dressing-case,
he put into the Old Gentleman's hat, which he had hidden on the top
shelf of his clothes closet. The watch he hung upon a little brass
thermometer that always stood on his centre table. He even wound up the
watch with the resolve never to let it run down so long as he should
live.
The keys, however, disturbed him, and he kept changing them from one
hand to the other, looking at them very thoughtfully.
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