The Servant Problem | Page 6

property owners of Valleyview signed all of their
houses and places of business over to me. I, in turn, have signed all of
them over to you--with the qualification, of course, that after selling
them you will be entitled to no more than your usual commission." She
withdrew a paper from one of the manila envelopes. "After selling
them," she went on, "you are to divide the proceeds equally among the
four charities specified in this contract." She handed him the paper. "Do
you understand now why I tried so hard to find a trustworthy agent?"
Philip was staring at the paper, unable, in his astonishment, to read the
words it contained. "Suppose," he said presently, "that circumstances
should make it impossible for me to carry out my end of the
agreement?"
"In case of illness, you will already have taken the necessary steps to
transfer the property to another agent who, in your opinion, is as
completely honest as you are, and in case of death, you will already

have taken the necessary steps to bequeath the property to the same
agent; and he, in both cases, will already have agreed to the terms laid
down in the contract you're holding in your hands. Why don't you read
it?"
* * * * *
Now that his astonishment had abated somewhat, Philip found that he
could do so. "But this still doesn't make sense," he said a short while
later. "Obviously you and the rest of the owners have purchased new
houses. Would it be presumptuous of me to ask how you're going to
pay for them when you're virtually giving your old houses away?"
"I'm afraid it would be, Mr. Myles." She withdrew another paper from
the envelope and handed it to him. "This is the other copy. If you'll
kindly affix your signature to both, we can bring our business to a close.
As you'll notice, I've already signed."
"But if you're going to be incommunicado," Philip pointed out, anger
building up in him despite all he could do to stop it, "what good will
your copy do you?"
Judith's countenance took on a glacial quality. So did her voice. "My
copy will go into the hands of a trusted attorney, sealed in an envelope
which I have already instructed him not to open till five years from this
date. If, at the time it is opened, you have violated the terms of our
agreement, he will institute legal proceedings at once. Fortunately,
although the Valleyview post office is closed, a mail truck passes
through every weekday evening at eight. It's not that I don't trust you,
Mr. Myles--but you are a man, you know."
Philip was tempted to tear up the two copies then and there, and toss
the pieces into the air. But he didn't, for the very good reason that he
couldn't afford to. Instead, he bore down viciously on his pen and
brought his name to life twice in large and angry letters. He handed
Judith one copy, slipped the other into his breast pocket and got to his
feet. "That," he said, "brings our official business to a close. Now I'd
like to add an unofficial word of advice. It seems to me that you're

exacting an exorbitant price from the world for your husband's having
sold you out for a brunette and a redhead and a pint of Scotch. I've been
sold out lots of times for less than that, but I found out long ago that the
world doesn't pay its bills even when you ask a fair price for the
damages done to you. I suggest that you write the matter off as a bad
debt and forget about it; then maybe you'll become a human being
again."
She had risen to her feet and was standing stiffly before him. She put
him in mind of an exquisite and fragile statue, and for a moment he had
the feeling that if he were to reach out and touch her, she would shatter
into a million pieces. She did not move for some time, nor did he; then
she bent down, picked up three of the manila envelopes, straightened,
and handed them to him. "Two of these contain the deeds, maps and
other records you will need," she said in a dead voice. "The third
contains the keys to the houses and business places. Each key is tagged
with the correct address. Good-by, Mr. Myles."
"Good-by," Philip said.
He looked around the room intending to say good-by to Zarathustra,
but Zarathustra was nowhere to be seen. Finally he went into the hall,
opened the front door and stepped out into the night. A full moon was
rising in the east. He walked down the moonlit walk, climbed into his
car and threw