be feeling . . . but circumstances regarding the late John Smith are, as you know, rather . . . er, exceptional I have been asked by Mr Smith's lawyer to appeal to you now, to help us, if you can, to find either a claimant for the late Mr Smith's estate, or his will. The matter has been widely advertised, but so far there has been no information forthcoming ... I would appreciate your help in this matter. Thank you."

The minister thanked the man and resumed control of the ceremony. He closed the service with a prayer, then everyone either drifted back to their cars or stood and talked.

"What was all that about?" said Nip as he and Jodey pushed their bikes back to the road.

"Dunno?" said Jodey, "'Something about old man Smith's will."

"Can't they find it?"

"I reckon."

"So who gets his house and everything?"

"The government probably."

"That's not fair, is it?"

"Probably not, but what else can they do with it?"

"They could give it to me!" laughed Nip.

"What would you do with a huge old house and miles of land?"

"Search me!" said Nip, "I'd think of something though. Maybe live there, with my wife and hundreds of kids?"

"Twit!" said Jodey.

They shouted their ideas all the way home, and burst in the door hungry.

"Breakfast!" said Jodey, getting the milk and some cereal out.

"Hey!" said their mother, "I thought you'd had that?"

"But I'm starving! I want another breakfast!"

"Oink oink!"

Jodey ignored his mother's ridicule and started tucking in, while Nip made himself a honey sandwich.

"And where've you two been anyway?" asked Mum.